Hunter Works
by Yomi
Summary: AU: Our Hunter characters are just actors at the studio Hunter Works. Illumi is new to town he has his own goals and aspirations most of all, to fit in, but it's proving surprisingly difficult as his past refuses to be forgotten.
1. Chapter 1 A day at Hunter Works

**Hunter Works**

This is my new Hunter story, I hope you guys enjoy. This was inspired by Seyruun High Jinx, in which the characters of Slayers were placed as ordinary people in a high school setting, trying to form a band. It follows the plot of slayers consistently in an enormous stroke of creative genius which I am sadly unable to perform in this fic. However, I'll try my best to please all patient readers, so let the story go ahead! 

Another note, this may also be seen as a massive crossover as some other anime characters will be making (quite a few) entrances. These will usually be quite well known anime, so please don't switch off. 

I would REALLY appreciate comments (yes, even flames!) for this first chapter. I'm quite excited by this whole concept and would like to know if you people would like me to continue and what you think of the characters so far. So please review! 

Okay, enough ranting. Onto the story! 

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**Chapter 1******

**A Day at Hunter Works.**

"Alright boys! That's great, we'll call it a day here." Cameraman April Foster said with much satisfaction from behind her camera, watching those winking red lights on her beloved machine switch off. The actors all stretched languidly, some stretching their mouths as far as possible for the maximum satisfying yawn. 

"Did you manage to get the last shot with the skateboard/raft coming to a halt?" Director Silva Zoldick asked. He was dressed in his usual outfit of a dark blue polo shirt and golf pants April knew would cost her half her year's salary. She worked at getting the look of petty contempt out of her system and gave her best professional response. 

"Yes director. The skid came out pretty impressive and managed to stop exactly where you had planned. I only hope that Hisoka-sama has come out of his shock." 

"Why yes.he moved out of the way exactly on cue thank the lords. Otherwise we would have had to spend another hour in this damn studio. How was the lighting? That has been worrying me for some time now. Are the candles giving off sufficient light for the camera?" 

April frowned slightly. "Well, since you insisted that the setting had to be as natural as possible without the interference of our usual spotlights, I say that everything can be considered adequate. But sometimes, people's faces are half hidden by shadows and the people in the far corners didn't come out so well. You could see that they were there, but only a vague outline with some murky colours." 

Silva approached the camera and operated the machine with fluid ease. Both carefully watched the replay, and whilst April was in vehement disagreement with Director Silva over the use of candles, the white haired man seemed quite pleased. He nodded once, then with a wave of his hand gave permission for the actors to leave the studio. 

"I think the atmosphere created was perfect, fitting especially well into the whole context in this part of the story. This tower is supposed to test the psychological strains and limits of the human mind, so the overall effect we want for the viewers is to put them at unease, on the edge so to speak. Don't you feel slightly agitated yourself, just watching the replay?" 

April mumbled her agreements and soon found an excuse to release herself from the Director's overbearing presence. She was grateful that she could appear busy packing up the equipment and packing up the rails laid down on the ground used for the last shot. It was common for many people to wish to retain their distance from the subtly aggressive Director and President of Hunter Works, if not because his features were rigidly threatening or that his flowing mane of white hair gleamed like cold ice in the flickering candlelight that made people uneasy and nervous. No matter how Silva Zoldick approached you, whether with good or ill in his mind, he just had this 'presence' of foreboding and disturbance that made you feel stupid if you thought you could trust him. With the Director, it was best to be informally polite, agree with whatever he said (because most of the time he was right anyway), and find something to excuse yourself from him in preferably less than two minutes if you were lucky, five if you weren't. April felt some pride in the fact that she was able to slip away free in one minute twenty. 

The actors all trudged out of the gloomy studio room into the brightly lit changing rooms which resembled more of those gym locker rooms with the rows of steel lockers and wooden benches down the isles. But everyone was too damn exhausted to make a fuss about their luxuries and immediately set their minds to change and leave. Only one person had the energy left to complain after a very long day of shooting. 

"Remind me to tell dad not to ever come to this little miserable hellhole again. The ventilation system was so bad that half the time I could barely breathe." Killua complained with the airs of a spoilt brat. He received one of the leading roles on the simple basis that he was the favoured son of Silva Zoldick, President of Hunter Works. So Killua played the son of a master assassin, an assassin in training himself who left home because he got sick and tired of mindless killing and ended up at the Hunters Exam where he wanted to relieve himself of boredom. And so that's how the story of Hunter x Hunter began. If anyone could make any complaints without fear of retribution, it was Killua. 

Hisoka, who was standing opposite Killua, retrieving his bag of clothing to change out of his aqua coloured clown costume, briefly glanced at the schedule in his hand without too much enthusiasm. In fact, his face was grim, and his mouth drawn into a tight, disapproving line mingled with distaste. 

"After this marathon of shooting today, I don't think any of you ever have to come back, except I still have to do another short scene with Hanzo when we find someone to play Killua's big brother." 

From two rows of lockers away, there was a groan of despair. Killua giggled. 

"Hopefully that little five second scene will be over in five minutes. I swear the perpetual gloom and unease is starting to rub off my usual carefree and relaxed demeanor. Definitely not good." Hisoka muttered still looking at the schedule with a certain amount of dislike and shook his head slowly. 

Hanzo came along to their little isle with his bag of clothes and threw of his ninja top with unexpected vitality. He pulled out a light brown, long sleeved top from his bag and pulled his arms through. 

"You know what guys, I believe that I've been through something worse than this." 

"Oh yeah?" Killua challenged. Gon, who had remained pretty quiet beside him, looked up in the middle of pulling up his socks. 

"Yeah." Hanzo took up the challenge. "It was back at Reikai Production where I took up another small role as - " 

"Yet another ninja." Came Hisoka's muffled voice as he pulled a dark blue v neck shirt over his head. 

Hanzo glared at the magician's back but ignored that little comment and continued. "We had some pretty nasty shots taken through this wild and untamed jungle. You can't even believe the amount of leaches they had in that place. Kuwabara is so traumatized that he has vowed never to return to that place ever again. But it was inside Genkai's temple of utter darkness which was intimidating." 

"Oh, I remember that!" Leorio came around from the other row to join them. He was already fully changed with his hair gelled and slicked back, very unlike his hairstyle in the shoot. A strong scent of cologne pervaded the air. "You guys had to fight in the utter dark right?" 

"Oh yeah, have you any idea how nervous I was that day? And my opponent was dual wielding sharp knives too. Enma insisted that we didn't use stunt doubles and that we really put out minds to beating the crap out of each other. What a great piece of advice." The ninja smoothed out his top, but his voice was dripping with sarcasm. 

"But what I seem to remember most distinctly was the way you lost so stupidly to Yuusuke. Did I fail to mention how foolish you looked when you figured out what had happened?" Everyone knew a taunt when they heard one, and Leorio always made sure everyone knew. Hanzo gritted his teeth and his face turned a bright beet red. His clenched fists shook, barely controlled by his side. 

"That was part of the script, it was acting, get it!" he grated. 

Leorio gave an easy, patronizing laugh. "Whatever you say Hanzo. Well guys, I'm off now. I'm going to fully enjoy my day off tomorrow, unless our illustrious director decides to spoil that, otherwise I'll be seeing you on Wednesday. Ja." Leorio raised a hand in mock salute as a parting gesture and strolled out of the studio humming a cheerful tune. When they heard the audible click of the doors shutting, Hanzo let loose a string of curses. 

"Damn Leorio is so stuck up and arrogant. Who does he think he is." He fumed, punching out hard at one of the lockers and actually left a dent. 

"Easy Hanzo," Hisoka candidly said and gave a small pat on Hanzo's shoulder. "he's one of the four main characters of Hunter x Hunter, that's why he gets to act like that. When you become a big star one day, you can afford to put on such airs. But until then it's no good getting yourself worked up about small people like him." 

But Hanzo barely heard, his face still red from anger. He sat down with much frustration. "You know what? I should have never left Hokage Village. It was a bad choice to become a freelance actor. No one needs a ninja character these days and I can't do any other roles. I'll always be some minor character who has to tolerate jerks like Leorio. Make he be struck down by mumps." He spat out bitterly. 

"Hey Hanzo, Hisoka! Why are you all still sitting here? It's time to head down to the pub and grab ourselves a nice, tall glass of cold frosty beer!" Kurapika's cheerful attitude was always welcome. "Lets go down to that western-styled pub just up the road. It would be a nice change." 

"I want to come to!" Gon stood up, fully changed and ready to go. "You can't believe the incredible aches I've got in my shoulders after hacking that brick wall with an axe half my weight. I feel like something cold and refreshing too." 

Kurapika, Hanzo and Hisoka looked back and forth at each other uneasily. They silently decided that Hisoka would be the one to dissuade the child out of coming along. 

"Gon-kun, I don't think your manager would approve of us taking you to such places." 

"My manager can use a plastic bag to cover her head! Awww.come one guys.take me with ya. If anything happens, I'll take all the blame." 

"That's not the problem Gon. What happens if the press finds out that our underage actors are going into pubs?" 

"Then it will generate more publicity for Hunter x Hunter." Killua interjected. "Gon, on behalf of my father, I give you full permission and approval to go with Kurapika. Enjoy yourself." 

"Where are you going Killua? Aren't you coming with us?" 

"Nah, go knock yourselves out. Like you said, I'm tired and sore from all those running and dodging scenes we did just then. Tompa nearly broke my back when he fell down that wall. What I really need is a long, hot bath with a hot chocolate sundae in my hand whilst I watch video clips of that Macross chick sing. Yes, that will be my perfect evening. I might give you a call later Gon, I'll see what happens." 

Gon nodded and turned to Hisoka with a slightly devilish grin. "You heard what the Director said, so now lets go!" 

The three adults rolled their eyes, but had no choice but to agree. Actor proposes, Director disposes. 

* * *

The pub which Kurapika had described was truly quite Western. In fact, it was almost a replica of a saloon complete with swinging wooden doors at the entrance, an accordion piano in one corner of the room, a dozen round wooden tables ringed with chairs across the room, and a traditional bar table made of glossy oak. The fact was, the studio which Hanzo and all them had been shooting in today did not belong to Hunter Works. The Director had made a one day loan from Graude Foundation to use one of their studio for its unique darkness. It had also been used for the scene of the underworld in which Shiryuu was thrown into by Cancer Deathmask in the first Saint Seiya season, and had been used a few more times later afterwards in order to depict the land of shadows. Silva thought it was the perfect location to do the particular shootout that they did today for its oppressiveness could be felt by the actors the instance they entered the room. 

Otherwise, Hunter actors hardly ventured near the west side of town where other studios such as Graude Foundation and Planet Gunsmoke were situated. It also made sense then they had not known about this bar. 

Hisoka approached the bar and addressed the barkeeper tending to it. He was dressed in a dirty white shirt which almost appeared yellow with an old, black vest buttoned tightly over his bulging stomach. Across his neck slung a chain with a small silver pendant dangling, shaped and fashioned to mimic the skull of a desert animal. Very Western. "Just three of your specialty and a soft drink for the young kid there please." 

"Gotcha. Three Blue Drowned Marys and coke coming right up." 

"Blue Drowned Marys?" Hisoka said, quite fascinated by the unique name. 

"You'll understand when you try it." The bartender winked at him as he turned his bag to mix the drinks. 

Hisoka nodded slowly. "Riiiight." He said and unhurriedly walked back to his table. Gon's interest had been caught by two people sitting only three tables away from them and he was whispering excitedly to the group. 

"That's Vash the Stampede over there! Along with Nicholas Wolfwood! Oh my god.I can't believe that they are here too." 

"But of course, Gon." Hanzo craned his neck to get a better look at the rowdy pair sitting not so far away. "Planet Gunsmoke is only around the corner from here, so this is where they would usually hang out. Still, you shouldn't make such a big deal out of it. We see lots of stars and actors around our side of town, and remember, you're going to be a big star pretty soon, might as well start on that composure of yours." 

"No way!" Gon exclaimed. "Not with Vash the Stampede! He is like one of my greatest heroes since Trigun was ever shown on screen. As you have failed to observe, I fashion my hairstyle so that it's similar to his. See?" Gon pointed as his own spiky hair, and the three adults could only nod in agreement. "I can't believe I'm in the same bar as Vash on a Monday night! Wait till Killua hears about this." 

"You might need some proof. Why don't you go up to him and get an autograph then?" Kurapika said. Gon gave this serious thought. 

The bartender approached them with their drinks on the silver platter. He placed in front of them three tall drinks coloured an electric blue with the same amount of fizz as well. Hisoka found himself mesmerized by the sheer colour of he beverage and didn't realize that he was holding his breath. 

"Feel like you're drowning?" 

Hisoka blinked at the Bartender and let out an explosive sigh. "Slightly, yes." 

"Now you know why we called it that." He smiled. 

"But are you sure this stuff is.drinkable?" Hanzo studied his glass dubiously. Kurapika looked like he was not going anywhere near it. 

"Yes, yes." The bartender said with too much enthusiasm for people's liking. "You'll actually feel the reverse and opposite effects of the name. You'll feel alive like you've never imagined, an electricity jolting inside you to give you that extra spark of life and feel your blood racing down each vein and capillary." 

Hanzo glared suspiciously at the bartender. "Are there drugs in the drinks then?" 

The angry bartender, accused of spiking the drinks, tried to keep his face as relaxed and calm as possible under the interrogatory glares. "Of course not," he managed to say through clenched teeth "it's just my very special mix. If it had drugs in there, my bar would close down in no time." 

"Okay, okay, we believe you. Hisoka, drink down that stuff." Kurapika ordered. 

Hisoka gave them all a pained look but spared them from his whinges, so instead he bravely lifted the tall glass to his lips. As he was about to take the first sip, a high pitched scream pricked their ears and caught their full attention. 

Vash and Nicholas were immediately alert glancing frantically to and fro. They recognized the owner of the voice and were worried. Meryl Strife, their faithful co-star, usually didn't find the need to scream with her huge friend beside her to protect and look after her. But they all knew what was happening tonight. Everyone in Planet Gunsmoke knew, and most were wary and cautious, if not unimpressed. The greatest philanderer of all time, the Casanova in the acting industry, Darien von Drosgon from Serenity Pictures, was out on the prowl around the western studios and had asked Meryl Strife out on a date. 

At first, Meryl wasn't sure if she was suspicious, repulsed or impressed. Either way, seeing a perfectly healthy male and an uneventful Monday night gaping on her schedule, she couldn't find a reasonable excuse to say 'no'. Despite the rumors. And the tabloid news sheets. And the gossips. And the fact that her friend Millie almost tore his head off when he approached her younger sister. And.Well, you don't actually think all that logically when a handsome man with a charming smile was standing right in front of you with seemingly genuine intentions of having a good night out. 

Only that the night had taken a turn for the worse. 

Darien had taken her to the most exclusive restaurant in the town, a large hotel complex owned and operated by Lord Hades. It had many ballrooms where formal functions took place, enough nightclubs to sate your wildest party animal, and the most elegant dining hall she had ever seen - The Elysium. 

But she should have known better. Straight off after dinner, Darien bluntly suggested that they go to a seedy bar, get drunk and hop into bed together. At that point, she rejected him outright being overwhelmed with so much disgust that she felt dirty. She then began to walk quickly away in any direction, realizing that the Texan Shootout pub near Planet Gunsmoke was nearby. She knew the bartender well and had hoped he would give her asylum from the rather angry male behind her. 

She was well aware that Darien was infuriated at having his request downright rejected, stepped on, then pissed on by a dog for good measure. She heard his angry steps behind her and suddenly felt a painful grip on her elbow. 

"Let go you jerk! The evening's over!" she growled, viciously trying to reclaim her arm. 

His former calm and pleasant demeanor had rapidly faded to one of ugly fury. "I think NOT, little lady." He hissed in her face, and she thought crazily for just one moment how repulsive his breath smelt. "You're getting into my car this instant." 

"Like hell I am!" her arm finally freed itself from the iron grip and without thinking she turned to run. The pub's sign was in sight and relief flooded through her heart. But before she could reach her sanctuary, she felt a stunning blow to her back, and before she knew it, she was pinned on the ground in the middle of the streets with Darien straddling her, his face red with intense fury. His first punch bought the first scream and she made sure she screamed loudly. 

Vash and Wolfwood leapt from their chairs and made a hurried and frantic dash for the swinging wooden doors. Intrigued, Gon followed with his friends closely behind. 

"All right you piece of scum! Get off her!" Vash raged and charged, throwing himself onto the Darien and both went rolling in the streets. Vash ended up on top and murder was clearly written on his face. He rolled up his sleeves and clenched his fists. Whilst Vash busied himself ruining Darien's perfect face, Wolfwood helped the terribly upset Meryl Strife onto her dainty feet. She rubbed angrily at her reddened and bruised cheek with undisguised hate in her eyes. She hugged herself tightly, despite Nicholas' reassuring arm around her slim shoulders. He could feel her small body shaking underneath. 

"You really give credit to your name, Strife. Whatever you do, you just manage to bring strife about." He said jokingly in hopes of cheering her up. It did bring up a small smile and a thought came to her head. She walked up to Vash, who was bent over, still busy imprinting his fist mark into Darien's not-so-perfect face. 

"Vash" she said sweetly "I think you better stop now." 

"Oh?" the blond gunman turned around to look at her, a bit surprised. 

"I have a better idea." And she leant forward and spoke softly so that only the three of them could hear her. Nicholas shrugged at the onlookers with casual ease but wondered what Meryl could be up to. 

Fear crept into Darien's expression. "You.can't be serious." He croaked. Meryl's eyes were now wide with feigned innocence, the torrents of anger only thinly disguised. She spoke with a malicious vengeance. 

"Oh, but you ARE going to agree. It's either that, or Vash immediately drags you to the nearest police station and have them charge you with attempted rape. That carries a four year jail term you know." 

"Yeah, and a lot of people can testify as to what happened!" Vash growled, giving Darien's expensive Armani shirt a good tug and violent shake. 

They took Darien's silence as submission and Meryl carried out her plan. 

Hanzo firmly gripped Gon by the shoulders and sternly led him away from the scene. 

"Hanzo! What are you doing! I want to see!" 

"No Gon, I think we'd be best not to get involved. The papparazi will be here very soon." Hisoka nervously glanced around them as if they were being hunted already. "If we do appear in the papers and magazines tomorrow for the wrong reasons, the Director could be very angry." 

Gon accepted the magician's logic, though he didn't know why the press would be coming, only that Hanzo murmured something about 'karma' and retribution and Kurapika told him to sate his curiosity until the morning and all will be revealed. 

"When you're old enough Gon, we'll explain to you what the informal code of duello between actors *really* means." Hisoka muttered and got them a cab to take them back to the northern part of the city. 

* * *

**Tuesday Morning, six am.**

Gon entered Hunter Works studios bright and early, knowing that Hisoka was also an early arriver. He passed through the sliding glass doors at reception; past the always genki receptionist (even in early mornings, without the aid of coffee); padded silently down corridors laid with thick crimson and gold velvet carpet and slammed his hand on the elevator button. His foot tapped impatiently as he waited, then when the elevator finally arrived, he punched in the number five to get to the main studio where he would have to fight Hisoka today. 

He stepped out at level five and used all his strength to push against the heavy metal double doors. The studio on level five was massive, its ceilings were lined with bright spotlights, a square arena constructed of heavy grey stone lay ghostly silent in the center of the room and empty spectator stands on all sides of the studio would soon be filled with cheap extras, common people who would grasp at any chance just to be on television. 

He made sure that he didn't trip over the heavy ropes of cable and wire, saw April grumble away in the early mornings as usual and finally spotted Hisoka and Hanzo chatting quietly in the front row of the spectator stands to the left. Wing was leaning curiously over the both of them, studying the newspaper which Hisoka held through his thick rimmed glasses. 

"Ohayo Gon! Come on, lets dig into this juicy gossip together!" Hanzo waved his set of mags and tabloids in the air with a very wicked and mischievous grin plastered on his face. Gon was glad. At least Hanzo had forgotten about those nasty things that Leorio had said to him last night when they had finished the shootout. 

"You know Hanzo, your appetite for rumors and scandals could rival the average housewife." April scowled from behind her contraptions, but Hanzo merely continued to grin. 

"It's what sustains us all and gives us a spark in the world we live in." he answered rhetorically, but then giggled uncontrollably, infecting Wing as well. 

The bald ninja handed the young star his share of the newspaper and pointed to the big black headlines which made Gon's eyes as large as dish saucers. It read: 

**Indecent Exposure - Heart throb arrested and detained**>>__

_'Last night at around 11pm, star actor from Serenity Pictures - Darien von Drosgen - was arrested by police for the charges of being drunk in a public place and indecent exposure. Witnesses say that after spending an hour heavily drinking at Western Shootout, a pub located in the city's west, the actor stripped and began his 'joy run' down the main street. He was seen flashing a 'moonie' in front of the Mayor's office, streaked through a seven eleven store, then burst into a function held by teachers and parents at the local school. He did not resist arrest and was firmly led to...'_

Gon's eyes skipped the rest of the text and couldn't believe the picture. Darien von Drosgen, a.k.a the infamous and adored Tuxedo Mask of Serenity Pictures had his hands raised in the air as the police closed in with capsicum spray. His private parts were clearly blurred. But the photographer should definitely get a raise, he thought. The picture perfectly captured the humiliation and shame in Darien and judging by the triumphant tone that Hanzo now spoke in, he probably deserved every scrap of it. 

"She's one tough girl." Hanzo continued, looking through other similar pictures with admiration. "To come up with something like that on the spur of the moment." 

"After what he did, I would demand nothing less." Wing quietly spoke. "But if it was either this or going to jail...well...Come to think of it, I think it's a hard choice." 

"I think she originally wanted to hang him up naked on a lamp post. But then, it would probably have been too suspicious so they made him streak. What a pure act of vengeance!" Hisoka said with much admired approval. His lips were turned up slightly in a cruel smirk. "I certainly hope that the little sniveling worm doesn't stick his head inside these builders for a while after this." 

Hanzo retrieved a pair of scissors and began to cut down the articles. "If I were him, I'd lock myself in a room and never come out. Now Gon, you should probably do something like this too - collect all the memorable things that have happened. Remember, we were there too when they negotiated this 'agreement'." 

"Look at his face..it's completely screwed up too." Wing adjusted his glasses and turned to another page. "I always knew that Vash had it in him to launch a good punch." 

"Too bad Killua missed this. I've got to tell him what really happened last night." 

"Good." The three adults said simultaneously. April sighed audibly from the other side of the studio. 

"The more people who know the better. We," Hanzo held his head up triumphantly "are about to spread a vicious rumor. Oooh..we might even just ruin Darien's image and reputation with this.can you taste it guys? How lovely is this bittersweet taste of vengeance for all those dirty looks and nasty remarks that prick hath bestowed upon us since Hunter began production!." 

Hisoka rolled his eyes, but he was still amused, and Wing was grinning a little too evilly for Gon's liking. April stalked up to them, her boots ringing loudly against the cold concrete floor, her eyes flat and uncompromising. 

"Ok, *ladies*" she drawled sardonically "can all the irrelevant people not in this scene leave" she looked steadily in Hanzo's direction "and the rest of you who are relevant please go get your costumes and makeup done before our Director arrives early as usual?" 

Gon gulped and made a run, followed by Wing and Hisoka who were both laughing easily. Hanzo continued to smile inanely at April, busy cutting out the newspaper clippings. Nothing could ruin his good mood today. 

Inside the shared change room, Wing changed out of his morning jogging sweater and put on the plain long sleeved blue shirt that his character wore. He snickered at Gon who looked might uncomfortable as he emerged from the dressing room, draped in the green outfit. 

"I swear these pants suck." He grunted tugging at them. "They're too short and too stiff.not to mention...Urgh...wedgie." he picked at the uncomfortable clothing with a dark look and almost groaned aloud when he saw his manager Mito fervently looking all over for him over the racks and racks of brightly coloured clothing. 

"Gon! What are you doing? Here, lets go through your lines again before Mr. Zoldick arrives." 

Gon stole one last glance at Wing and Hisoka and gave them a mournful look before he was sternly steered away to an isolated corner to learn his lines. 

"I really should be the one complaining." Hisoka looked at his immaculate reflection in the window and took a large scoop of the toughest, strongest gel out and began to fashion his hair, daring to make it defy gravity. He liked the soft yellow lightbulbs which framed the large mirror in front of him and gave him an ethereal, mystical look. "At least he doesn't have to sprint in high heels. I don't know how women slip into these ridiculous pieces of torturing equipment everyday." He stopped grooming his dark red hair and bobbed his head down under his dressing table and re-emerged, dangling a pair of shoes. "Would you look at the width of these stupid things!" he exclaimed. "It's like.three fingers wide! I'll be limping by the end of the day, I just know it!" 

Wing couldn't help laughing out loud at his unfortunate co-star's predicament. He ignored Hisoka's darkly threatening look and felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He regarded Hisoka's costume with much amusement but was wise enough to keep it to himself. But the magician knew what he was looking at and knew what he thought, and that only bought my laughter. 

"This is going to ruin me. I'm never going to have a collective fan base looking like this." He muttered bitterly, returning to his reflection in the mirror and bought up a big fluffy powder puff and started to apply the foundation. 

Wing silently watched Hisoka busy himself with his appearance for a while, humming quietly. "It's going to be a long day again. And then you'll have to have another break to apply the cuts and bruises to your face after lunch." 

Hisoka suddenly groaned out loud and his forehead connected with a resounding thump on the dressing table. Wing also fell off his seat and crashed loudly onto the floor. 

When staff came around to see what was wrong, they found Wing curled tightly into a ball, shaking violently from hysterics, almost unable to breathe, and Hisoka, barely conscious, despair clear for all to see as he babbled incoherently about the meaning of life. 

Schedule was thus delayed for an hour whilst the two actors recovered. 

Mito, satisfied that Gon was properly groomed, finally left the building and Gon let loose a sigh of relief. He saw Machi entering the studio just as his manager left, and as always, Machi was fashionably late. 

Only that she was surprised she didn't get told off for it today. 

"Oh, it's nothing really. Hisoka and Wing are just slightly indisposed right now. Wing was last seen hyperventilating and Hisoka had triple vision. All I heard was a loud bang and crash." 

Machi shook her head, her purple hair swishing side to side, and tsked in disapproval. "Trust Hisoka to cause a scene. Speaking about scenes however," her voice curled up in relish "I gather you've already seen the tabloid news sheets already?" she asked with a certain amount of relish. 

Gon's smile broadened impossibly, and he proceeded to recount the *exact* account of events that went on last night. Machi leaned close to listen, a wicked smile on her face, very interested indeed. 

* * *

The extras slowly filed into the large studio wearing brightly coloured clothes as was instructed. A low murmur of excitement was already starting to stir, and more staff milled around handing confetti, banners and an assortment of hand held foods and large drinks. Other assistant directors orchestrated sectors of the audience and gave simple instructions - when to cheer, when to create a tense silence, when to shout and stomp. The fight commentator adjusted her spiky brown pig tails and was discussing her script lines with the Director. Her words were accompanied with vivid hand actions, looking at Silva now and then for approval. He merely nodded in some instances, narrowed his eyes and shook his head at gestures that he thought were too outlandish, and this little interaction was over in four minutes. 

April tried to hide her grin. Yet another conversation which lasted less than five minutes. Uh-oh, was that the Director starting to walk in her direction? Best to look so busy that she couldn't spare two minutes. She ducked down behind her beloved machines and quickly ripped out the many cables out of their sockets gleefully. Yes...just to reconnect the mess would take at least fifteen minutes, and if she just jumbled up these leads here. 

"April, may I have a word with you?" 

"Um, Director, I've still got to finish off these connections. We've only got another ten minutes before schedule starts." Secretly, she was throwing confetti in joy. 

"That's what I was about to tell you." He said evenly with no trace of emotion. "Hisoka is out cold and Wing currently needs an oxygen mask. Schedule's been pushed back an hour, so I want to discuss some angle shots with you. We might also do some of the crowd scenes and the commentary first and see if we can get them out of the way. I don't want to hold up these extras for long, every hours costs me money." 

'_Maybe if you cut back on the amount of expensive clothing, you may be able to afford me a raise_' April seethed silently. She stood up, face carefully blank and devoid of emotion and forced herself to concentrate on the Director's low and slightly husky voice. But with all the extras on the set and her curiosity over what happened to Hisoka and Wing made her extremely curious, so that she couldn't properly focus. 

"...repeat shots especially at the beginning of the fight where Gon launches into many attacks against Hisoka. I want at least 3 perspectives so we can edit as we please later." blah blah blah. How could the Director seem so impervious to everything around him? Was he not even the least bit curious about last night's events either? He definitely didn't sound like it. The only emotion she ever saw from him was probably slight anger, a fearful and gruesome unsettling feeling which stirred in the depths of your heart. Everyone gave him plenty of space that day when a dark scowl hung on his brow and April shuddered at the mere thought. Otherwise, he was dry and stoic, straight to business and nothing but business. 

"Since Hisoka and Wing are incapacitated right now, you could get your crew started on those crowd scenes. The fight commentator is also ready. She's got all her lines and gestured memorized impeccably. Perhaps you could quickly finish plugging those cables back in and start the film rolling." 

April hoped the Director hadn't seen her ripping out the leads but his tone and words were anonymous of his feelings. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she ducked down and with lightening deftness and was finished in two minutes. By the time she raised her head, Silva was at the far side of the room already. She let out a sigh of relief. 

"All right Toby. Lets get the cameras started. You can take charge of the commentator today." 

Toby was a young apprentice in training. He was tall and slender with a mop of light, messy, chocolate brown hair that looked like it had never been brushed. He face was just as delicate, but framed a pair of owlish blue eyes. He wore a casual white T-shirt bearing the official Hunter Words logo and a pair of dirty jeans that had been worn long past their expiration date. Still, he had an amazing grasp of space perception and most importantly of all, the Director was satisfied with his work. 

Toby was good to work with. He had a pleasant smile, a smooth flowing voice and graceful movements which reminded April of her tabby cat. When he heard that he could do the particularly important shots of the commentator, his face lit up considerably brightly and his eyes brimmed with gratefulness. Without further instructions he had already begun to wheel his great black machine over to the commentator's box. 

"April! Crowd A here is ready to shoot! You done?" April pushed a hand through her hastily brushed brown hair and felt as if a bucket of ice cold water had poured over her. Director was raising his voice at her. That was a bad sign. Any louder and he would be angry. Anger is no good. Anger from Director meant salary cut. Anger could also mean no job. Anger could spell doom. Frantically, she realized that her mind was babbling incoherently and she found it very difficult to reign those thoughts under tight control. "April?" the prompt came. April pushed against her camera with almost hysterical desperation. If there was annoyance in Silva Zoldick's voice, she magnificently ignored it and just focused on what she had to do. In the back of her mind, a crazy voice resounded the same phrase over and over again - "you don't want to go back *there* do you? 

* * *

Killua had received message straight away about what had happened to Hisoka and Wing at the dressing room, so he took his sweet time to get dressed and ready. Studying his immaculate image in the full length mirror in the inside of his wardrobe door, he nodded with much approval. He was everything that Killua Zoldick is supposed to be in Hunter x Hunter. Smart, sharp, dressed fashionably, carrying a cool air of confidence. Correction. He was a predator who stalked the world of prey, so we are talking about *supreme* confidence because not much in Hunter x Hunter could stand up to him. As was the situation at the studios. 

His father was known as the cold Director whose callous image could not be disturbed. At first Killua didn't know if he really wanted the other actors to know his true identity in case they ostracized him and looked down on him as another tag along who only got what he had in life because of his father. But his identity quickly fell through, if only because there were only two albinos in the building and his gracious father announced his sir name without hesitation on the first day of production. 

However, since Silva was such a feared and respected character, the other actors were always courteous and polite with him, shared the odd joke here and there and included him in their nights out. That wasn't bad, for the son of a filthily rich family, most likely to inherit. Unlike Kuroro von Drosgen, the Genei Ryodan Dancho who was often seen brooding wherever he walked, Killua considered himself quite happy and free of troublesome worries, and that was an accomplishment indeed. 

Satisfied with his image, he went downstairs to the breakfast room and found one of the housemaids ready to serve his meal. The daily newspaper lay neatly folded in front of his usual seat and he picked it up enthusiastically to scour for gossip and rumors. Preferably of break ups. He liked those the best, especially the way the couples fought and argued over the press, spitting nasty remarks back and forth about each other, spilling out each other's bad habits and as always, the man claimed that the baby was never his as his partner had been unfaithful. Killua didn't believe in the institution of marriage, and he certainly laughed at the idea of love. Although a mere twelve years old, he prided himself in the fact that he had a quite firm grasp of the harsh realities of the world around him, and knew that he was in a very privileged position. 

But that had not always been the case. He clearly remember the day when his mother left them. He was four, and his younger brother Alluka was only a few months old and his dad was struggling with a job that didn't pay too well. But Silva fought for everything that he had, and since his wife left him, worked even harder to prove that he was not merely scum to be kicked around by corporate managers. He vowed to be one himself, and within three years of hard work, he managed to establish a chain of very successful Information agencies and constructed an army of consultants, then a year ago decided that he would have a crack at the lucrative film industry. That's how Hunter Works sprang into existence. 

Killua sometimes would wonder where his ungrateful mother could be. She had abandoned the family when they most needed her support in her own selfish pursuit of happiness. His eyes narrowed and his mood suddenly took a dark turn. She had better pray that she never crossed his path again, because he certainly wouldn't forgive her. Wouldn't forgive those long nights of loneliness that he spent with just his little brother when his father had to work late. Or those long years of semi neglect because Silva was busy building his empire and there was no one there at home to look after him. Nor would he forget those harsh and terrible taunts he received at school from the other ignorant peers. 

Could he even remember her face? It had been so long ago. 

"Killua-sama?" Killua snapped out of his miseries. It seemed that the maid had been calling for a while now for a look of concern was clearly flashing in her large brown eyes. He nodded at her, giving her permission to retreat and breathed in deeply. 

Time to take up the paper and forget those terrible days. 

And did that paper cheer him up! What juicy gossip! 

He became alerted to the location where all the fuss started and his mind ticked like clockwork. It sounded very much like the place that Gon and the others had decided to visit after the shooting last night. They'd probably have the *real* story of what when on. Grinning like a little devil, he leapt out of his seat, leaving his breakfast untouched and raced for the door. 

The maid poked her head around the corner at the sudden noise and flinched as she heard the loud slam of the front door. "Killua-sama?" Sighing with worry, the maid Jenny marked down Killua's miserable deliberations of his past and reminded herself to pass on the information to Silva.   



	2. Chapter 2 Visitors for dinner

Chapter 2  
  
Visitors for dinner  
  
"Urgh! I can't take all those fight scenes anymore!" Hisoka's voice was muffled by the constant splashing of water and his own spluttering. He ducked his face into the water filled basin and violently pulled his face out of the water, his hair sending sparkling droplets of water all around him.  
  
"Hmm...correct me if I'm wrong, but that could have made a good hair commercial." Killua grinned at the situation. He had an easy role today having only a few shots in the episode amongst the crowd as he watched the fight between Gon and Hisoka. The odd comment here, another glare there, it wasn't so tough after all.  
  
Gon had taken the worst of it all today with the tumble turns and constant sprinting. His dad wasn't satisfied with the effect of half the shots taken, so god know how many punches Gon had to throw around today already. There he sat, in his makeup chair, a vacant look in his unfocused expression. His shoulders were rolling in slow motions trying to coax the ache out of them.  
  
"Come on! We've only got an hour for lunch." The young Zoldick continued to whine, his hands restlessly fidgeting with his stylish clothing.  
  
Hisoka was now furiously raking a towel over this face and he was thoroughly exhausted by the end of it. "I'm not going outside until the last molecule of this ridiculous paint is off my face." He panted whilst seriously studying his image in the mirror. His thin eyes narrowed, indicating that it was acceptable. "All right. Just let me get out of these hideous peddle pushers and fit into some more human pants. Where'd my bag go?"  
  
The magician ambled to another section of the room, leaving Killua and Zuuchi to stare blankly at Gon. They ignored him.  
  
"Hey Zuuchi, looks like we'll be able to leave the set early today. What say we go flex our muscles at the arcade afterwards and treat ourselves to tall glasses of chocolate milkshake?"  
  
Zuuchi kicked his bag of belongings under a dressing table and looked up at Killua with a big grin. "Sorry pal, but Neverwinter Nights just came out and I still haven't finished Dungeon Siege yet. But if you like, we could do EverQueest together after all this is over."  
  
Killua's eyebrows knitted together. Zuuchi was a hardcore gamer but had a preference for PC games instead. Furthermore, he spent a far longer amount of time with his computer because his role was so minimal in Hunter x Hunter. His EverQuest character was at least ten levels above his own. It would be difficult to group then. He sighed with disappointment.  
  
"Nah, I'll have to solo a bit myself first to catch up with you."  
  
A person stepped into the dressing rooms. His very presence alone seemed to chill the air around them.  
  
"Dad?"  
  
"That was a good shoot today Killu. You can basically leave now, and that goes for you too Zuuchi." Silva said, looking down at the pair of youngsters. Killua's face remained blank, but the fuzzy brown haired kid broke into a huge grin.  
  
"Ah! I might go find Amanuma down at Reikai Motion Pictures then! Thank you Director!" Zuuchi gave a mock salute then dashed off to pick up his bag of belongings from underneath the dressing table and made a quick sprint towards the nearest exit. Silva's gaze never wavered from his son however, and when Zuuchi's footsteps faded away, the President of Hunter Works finally spoke.  
  
"Jenny said that you were having one of you... 'lapses' again this morning." Killua imagined that he heard concern in his father's voice.  
  
"Is that a question or a statement sir?" he mumbled, unable to bring himself to speak any louder under Silva's hypnotic gaze. The pair remained in silent struggle of wills for a while until Hisoka re-emerged, face slightly flustered, otherwise ready to go to lunch. He called out to Gon and Killua.  
  
"I'm...not going." Killua finally said out loud. "You guys have a big lunch ok?"  
  
"What do you mean you're not - oh." Hisoka's voice abruptly trailed off and his eyes widened at the sight of Silva Zoldick, whom he had presumably interrupted. He nodded fervently and quickly turned to the exit on the far side of the room, carrying a tired out Gon under his arm and madly gesturing for Hanzo and Wing to pull their act together and leave the studio before anything happened.  
  
The group of four made it outside the studio and patiently awaited the elevator. Machi casually strolled up to them and looked questioningly at Gon.  
  
"You all right kiddo?"  
  
"I'm going to get a good massage tonight, if that's the last thing I do." Gon croaked. Hisoka finally set him back down on the ground, but even then the main star of Hunter x Hunter was still wobbling a bit, his legs undecided as to whether to stand straight or collapse all together.  
  
"Steady Gon, the day's not over yet." Wing cautioned "And besides, it's Tuesday Gym night. You're not going to slack off."  
  
Everyone else nodded flatly, even Machi, because as a member of the Genei Ryodan, the least they could do was actually look like the competent, toughened thieves they were supposed to be. At first, when these Gym nights began, everyone absolutely hated them. In fact, it was a suggestion brought up by their trainers who had readily observed that they were all terribly out of form and shape and nowhere near flexible enough to perform half the death defying stunts that Silva expected of them. So obviously, to the gym they went, every Tuesday, Wednesday AND Thursday night. It was tedious, painful and humiliating, and all the Hunter actors made sure that if they suffered, then no individual will be spared, even if they didn't have to remove their shirts off in the series.  
  
Gon groaned, then whined and tried to look extremely piteous.  
  
"No!" Machi declared hotly and held up a clenched fist. "You will share the same fate as all your fellow actors!"  
  
Hanzo solemnly nodded. "It's for the best Gon. You'll probably even feel a bit better after a few stretches as well. Don't worry, we'll get you your sauna AND massage afterwards."  
  
Gon's head drooped, but he knew Hanzo was trying to comfort him at least. Which was better than everyone else sometimes. Hisoka couldn't seem to get the grin off his face and Wing found every excuse to look away constantly. He sighed and gave in. It would be pointless to argue with such a determined bunch. He swore he had met bulls that were more lenient.  
  
"By the way, why aren't we dining out at the cafeteria on second floor? Outside is going to be packed at this hour." Hanzo stepped out of the lift first and flinched slightly under the powerful glare of the midday sun.  
  
"Oh, we'll find a place with no troubles I'm sure." The magician ran a hand through his sickly gelled hair, trying not to grimace. "But now that the streets are clear of a certain *someone*, I think the city will smell a little better."  
  
"For a while." Wing added.  
  
Everyone shared the same grin, the type of grin you smiled at the demise of your enemies, the one you smiled at the funeral of your nemesis, the kind of grin that touched your lips when your hated foe was begging at your feet. And what a wonderfully warm and comforting feeling it was. Almost like closure.  
  
"Now that you've finished cutting and pasting all articles, what are your plans for the scrapbook?" Machi watched the ninja possessively clutch the book tightly to his chest. Hanzo gave everyone a sheepish look, but then, he turned very serious, like the mastermind conjuring a wonderfully deceitful plot.  
  
"I'm going to stop by at the newsagency and mass produce this work of art."  
  
Hisoka rolled his eyes a bit. "Don't you have anything better to do with your day off?"  
  
"Yep. Circulate this baby around town, then buy a really big and nice thank you card for Meryl, and perhaps book a time for her to go out with Leorio and hope for the same results."  
  
Machi starred flatly at them and shivered dramatically. "Could you guys please not ruin my appetite by mentioning that jerk's name." Her voice was acid and could have melted the toughest steel to runny molten liquid.  
  
This got everyone interested. So whilst they walked down to their local café, about a block and a half away, they probed her with many questions. However, they found it most pleasant to chat when they had finally arrived at their destination - a sunny, overly bright and cheery place with tables decked in checkered tablecloths and waitresses with enough genki aura to cheer the most depressed man. They chose to sit just slightly outside, under the cool shade of a large umbrella and ordered tall, cold drinks.  
  
Hisoka as usual, took control of the conversation and settled his elbows on the table, his chin resting lightly on top of his clasped hands. It was time to talk business. "One of these days, we'll have to find something to fix Leorio up. But we all must have our own reasons of course." His eyes narrowed slightly and he glanced at each of his companions steadily. The atmosphere suddenly seemed unnaturally still and quiet, like time had been suspended. That was Hisoka for you, a man with such charisma and personality that he could hold you to his will with a mere look and a few words. A powerfully enigmatic man indeed. "Lets begin with your story Machi, now that we are comfortably seated on these cushioned seats in such a lovely restaurant. Tell us, what has Leorio done?" his words were almost hypnotic. How like his Hunter character, the Magician who can mesmerize and captivate his audience, Gon thought ironically.  
  
Machi scowled, partly in discomfort, and partly in defiance of Hisoka's magnetism. "I said it all before. That jerk made a pass at me the other day."  
  
"Uh-uh Machi-san." Hisoka's eyes narrowed further still, his voice beginning to take on an entirely different tone, like a persuading, sugar coated voice, but just beneath down the malice was madly boiling. It didn't help that Hisoka had taken on a totally different expression, the one he managed to make himself look like an utter psychopath in the series, where shadows danced across his face even in broad daylight. "This is where we open ourselves up to our fellow conspirators today. There shall be nothing left untold at this table. In short, we want details."  
  
Machi sighed, giving in reluctantly. "We kinda bumped into each other in the hallway on level three. I was going off to my private rest area when he acted all slick and cavalier and made a few comments."  
  
Eyebrows turned up, prompting her to continue.  
  
She had been relatively pissed off that day. It was during the first stages of production and already, she was running through the streets of the city with Shizuku and Kuroro on some wild chase scenes which made heavy use of wires and she bobbed up and down from the crowds. God knows long it actually took before she could find some sort of balance and actually make it look like she was jumping.  
  
So towards the evening, the group returned back to Hunter Works headquarters to finalize the small details, such as the sounds and conversations that might have been drowned out under the rainy weather.  
  
And did she mention that she was soaked to the bone and felt like a wet dog?  
  
Everything went smoothly enough. Paku and Shizuku still wanted to go clubbing afterwards, and so she complied with their wishes. But only after a change of gear. Everyone agreed of course, and they went their own ways - some back to private homes, and some to the private rest areas provided to each actor, complete with bed, desk, cupboard and personal bathroom and toilet. It was along the way that she met Leorio, dressed in his sharp suit, snickering about obscene messages to someone over his cell phone.  
  
He ended his conversation with whatever slimebag he was talking to as he saw her approaching and his eyes studied every inch of her, wandering up and down her small frame with insolently critical eyes.  
  
At this point, Hanzo quipped up how low and sleazy it was to look at a woman in such way. The others murmured similar sentiments.  
  
Then, Leorio stopped and gave her one of those looks you would give to homeless people or desperate drug addicts. "You're never going to get any dates or opportunities with your looks you know. For one, you're too short, not to mention lacking totally in assets, and you know what I mean by 'assets' and your eyes! Would you even put on some contacts to cover that hideously piercing colour? But here you have one generous guy who can tolerate your flaws and faults. How about the closest bar?"  
  
"That's a pickup?!" Hanzo squealed with outrage, then quickly covered his mouth and suspiciously glanced around him to see if anyone was looking over at the commotion. Hisoka's flat glare was a warning not to let loose such outbursts again.  
  
"So I gave him the most direct response as possible and told him to stuff his face where the sun don't shine and never come back because the world would be such a prettier place without him spoiling it." Machi finished primly.  
  
"Don't lie to me Machi. We want to hear his last and devastating sally. What was it?"  
  
"Oh very well" the young lass rolled her eyes. "He said: you should have considered yourself lucky. Who would go out with a short dwarf as ugly as you....and you'll never get some, or something along similar lines"  
  
"You oughta have kicked him in the balls." Wing muttered, talking a large gulp of his milkshake. Machi did likewise, only she ordered lemon tea.  
  
"Well, I have no story to tell. You saw what happened last night, only it's habitual and repetitive. I get shit from him just because I'm a minor character." Hanzo tried to sound indifferent, but hurt was clearly in his eyes. Machi patted his broad shoulder assuringly. "So what about you Wing? Us two have confessed already, what are your misfortunes with the living sleaze incarnate?"  
  
Wing pushed up his glasses and looked all diplomatic and businesslike. "The same that you suffer Hanzo, because like you, I get only few appearances. But there was one particularly offending moment we shared together in which he labeled me as every stereotype under the sun."  
  
"Stee-ree-o type....damn, I only checked that word up the other day." Gon cursed.  
  
"It's basically broad generalizations, Gon, based on your appearance and character namely - the classic one being 'all blondes are dumb, therefore if you're blonde, and you make a mistake typing in Word, you'll actually try to wipeout your errors on the monitor." Wing patiently explained with a small smile, ever the mentor figure, even outside the script.  
  
Gon laughed, but quickly subdued it as the looks his co-actors told him that it was only meant to be an example. "Please go on." He said meekly.  
  
"That's about it. It was not the stereotyping itself, or the immature name calling. It's deeper than that, as is human psychology. By framing me as a stereotype, he has basically dismissed me as another human being with complex thoughts and ideas, dreams and desires of my own. To him, I was just a cardboard character who could be understood with a simple generalization. And that's basically another way of telling me that I am nothing. In a world with six billion people, all trying to find their identity and purpose in life, I prided myself in being able to make myself known, if however minimally, to the world. Acting is another way of confirming your existence on this planet and the absolute gall of that miscreant to ignore what I am and what I have achieved...that's just very frustrating."  
  
"Deeeep." Everyone softly echoed at once with varying degrees of understanding. Wing smiled and laughed again at their disturbed and mystified expressions. He knew he should have bought that Polaroid camera when it was on sale. It was just moments like this that had to be treasured. Here they were, out on lunch in a cheery restaurant, brooding over their misfortunes with a certain individual which led to questioning the meaning of life! He knew his psychology degree was well worth the time he spent pouring over barely logical and mentally warped books written by equally demented authors.  
  
Lunch was quickly served and everyone dug in, whether it be juicy steaks, half done, or big bowls of chips and nachos covered in steaming melted cheese. You could only ponder on the reason of being for so long, and delicious aromas of food have been universally known to cure any form of depression.  
  
"I guess you don't take crap from Leorio do you Gon?" Hanzo asked between mouthfuls of his chicken snitzhel.  
  
Gon shook his head. "He sees me as one of the main characters of Hunter x Hunter. I'm also a friend of Killua's, so he doesn't dare to say anything. But sometimes, I get the feeling that he's. ..sneering at me, when he thinks I'm not looking. I just feel uncomfortable around him. What about you Hisoka?" he asked quickly.  
  
All eyes turned to the magician who was thoughtfully chewing on his steak. An easy but cold smile touched his lips. He daintily wiped the corner of his mouth before proceeding. "I may not be one of the Hunter four, but I do have major role. Besides, I won't hesitate to take offence from an insult either. Code Duello fellow actors," he tisked with an all knowing smug grin and wagged his finger "and it means exactly what it means."  
  
"Hisoka..." Hanzo's voice trailed off with slight admiration.  
  
"You idiot! Don't encourage him!" Machi growled and implanted her fist in his bald shiny head. She then shot Hisoka a frightened, but altogether angry look. "You can't risk starting a war inside the Hunter building! Think of the almighty presence of the ever watchful director. Code Duello in Hunter Works is the closest thing to suicide. You take it too far, and no other company would ever hire you either."  
  
"Why Machi-san, I didn't you know you cared." Hisoka smiled indifferently.  
  
"I just don't want to be around you when it happens, in case it rubs off on me." Machi replied hotly. But the way Hisoka looked at everyone of them told her just how serious he was.  
  
"What is the point in life if you don't push and test these limits that we have constrained ourselves to?" he began, voice dropping down to a low, barely audible whisper which the wind threatened to carry away. This forced everyone to concentrate hard on his words. "We are actors, famous people who are above the law. And so when vendettas occur in our little, select society, and the law enforcers are helpless to interfere, what better mechanism than Code Duello to protect ourselves, our reputation and our dignity? Either way, I've been involved in this business for too long, got too many friends around here. Do you think one Leorio is enough to stand up to me? I could make him do what Darien von Drosgen did last night and make it last ten times as long and the beautiful part would be I could get away with it entirely!" his expression turned terribly cruel. "Code Duello is another way of saying don't play with fire if you can't handle it. I think Leorio-san has enough sense to steer clear of something which could so easily destroy him."  
  
All men looked to Hisoka with something akin to shy admiration. Deep down, they had found themselves a new hero. Machi on the other hand, slapped her palm against her forehead, dreading the oncoming headache. Men!  
  
"You'd threaten your career just to fix up some cheap slug like Leorio. You know who really wins in the end then." She muttered without a hope of even trying to persuade the testosterone driven males to listen to her view. But the magician gave her one of his knowing looks.  
  
"That's only if you get caught, and I'm very careful." He spoke ominously but without the earlier threatening undertones. "Just think about it, here we are, sitting together speaking spiteful stuff about him, and there are many others at Hunter Works who share similar sentiments. We are a coalition, and if worse comes to worse, we'll set Leorio up against our illustrious Director himself. All of us, in it together, we are at an incredible advantage already. Code Duello doesn't always refer to illegal practices you know."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Killua heard his friends gradually exit the large studio room and faced his father, not knowing what to say. He guessed he should have been angry at the maid for being too concerned about something which wasn't her business. But he wondered what he looked like when was caught in those trance like moments, thinking about the past. Perhaps it was worrying indeed.  
  
He maintained a blank expression when he glanced up at the resilient features of his father, the President and Director of Hunter Works, the one they called the predator with silver hair who prowled the world, fearing no one, stopping at nothing to achieve his ends. Killua supposed that his father expected a splitting image from his son, but Killua never asked.  
  
"Will you be home late again?" he asked, for some reason wanting to divert the topic of the conversation.  
  
"That's another reason why I wanted to speak with you. I'm going to be home for dinner tonight." Killua's stupefied silence prompted him to continue. "There'll be guests over for dinner tonight. So you might as well go home and pack it up a bit."  
  
We've got housekeepers who do that, Killua thought flatly, wondering if that was nervousness he felt from his father's posture.  
  
"And you should probably dress a bit decently as well."  
  
"Are they business people again?"  
  
Silva might have balked for a moment, but no one noticed. "No, just guests, friends."  
  
We don't have any friends. The only people we have are allies or partners in business. When we become of no use to each other, we immediately cease contact. If there is no benefit to be gained by knowing that person, then it is inefficient use of our time. Furthermore, people around us judge us by our usefulness, as we do them. Therefore there is no one we can rely on in this world but ourselves. That is what you've taught us father.  
  
"Will grandpa be home too?"  
  
"Yes....he'll be home for dinner as well."  
  
Entertaining friends is an inefficient use of time. Wasting time is the equivalent of wasting your chances at making money elsewhere. It is a ruthless world.  
  
"You'll have to help me entertain some of them tonight Killu. Think of something to do ok?"  
  
WHO ARE YOU?! AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY FATHER?!  
  
Killua was left rooted to the spot, his face a perfect blank to mask the confusion and terror beneath. Something felt terribly wrong. He wished there was someone he could talk to, Gon most preferably, but he would be busy all afternoon.  
  
The young Zoldick racked his brains at the list of people he could confide in. Many names came into his mind, mostly other kids his age from Saturday School, mainly the other young kids from Hokage Village down south of the city. Naruto was an ok guy, but he didn't know him well enough. Gara? No, he listened to his mum too much and never formed an opinion on his own. How about Kaoru Koganei? He was another bright, cheeky and enthusiastic kid who enjoyed every moment of his life and career, wielding the impressive Kogan Anki in Flame of Recca. Killua had asked his dad why he couldn't have a big stick to throw around, but Silva said the subtle approach would fit his character more.  
  
But what could a happy and normal kid know about problems? He'd be the last person to understand how he felt right now.  
  
Killua heard himself sigh. Once again, he was forced to depend on himself, to comfort himself even when he was neck high in confusion and misery and his vulnerability was so fragile that if someone fed him one more piece of information that didn't fit into his normal pattern of life, he'd have a nervous breakdown, right here and now. Then he could hopefully remain asleep, or in a coma, whatever, until whatever chaotic storm blew over.  
  
Numbly, he packed up his gear and slowly trudged home on foot. The genki receptionist bade him goodbye, but he was too deep down in his own thoughts to have noticed.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Yohoo! The day is finished!" the main star of Hunter x Hunter bobbed enthusiastically to the change rooms with a trail of tired people pulling their iron-shackled feet behind him.  
  
"And he was complaining how tired he was at lunch." Hisoka blinked a few times, his eyelids starting to feel heavy already.  
  
Inside the change rooms, several other people had gathered already. Kurapika's big smile bought some light joy in everyone's moods, but Kuroro's sulky expression made everyone roll their eyes. Phinx gave Kuroro a friendly slap on the back.  
  
"Cheer up, 'Dancho'" he began with much energy and vitality. "Can we actually see a smile on your face for once? Everyone would think that you'd have the most reason to hang a grin on your handsomely morbid face today after reading every magazine and newspaper. Or if you're still not properly informed, I'll try to acquire one of those anthologies that Hanzo was circulating late this afternoon."  
  
"Kindly don't make any reference to my immediate family. I'm depressed enough as it is, do you want me to bang my head against the wall too?"  
  
Phinx scowled softly. "But your little perfect bro, the loved and adored Tuxedo Mask, is caught with his pants down! Literally! Ye! Surely that is reason enough to rejoice and remove the shroud of melancholy that doth hang around you constantly my good sir." He finished grandly.  
  
Kuroro rubbed the side of his temples with a pained expression. But he couldn't help feeling an oncoming smile at the ridiculous use of Shakespearean language Phinx added in for a good measure. What an avid reader. "It's not a good sign Phinx. If Darien did what he did...he must have been on some pretty wild party drugs, and guess who'll end up shouldering the responsibility when I go home, correction, *if* I go home."  
  
Ubo stared in Kuroro with something akin to shock and Kurapika became puzzled.  
  
"You mean to say you haven't heard?" Hanzo couldn't believe it. He'd spent the whole day spreading gossip and rumors so that even the lonely mole buried two miles deep underground would have gotten sick of all the mutterings.  
  
"We need to work on your efficiency Hanzo." Machi entered the change rooms with Ponzu, both fully dressed in their gym outfits already. All men tried to look indifferent at their pleasing curves. "Obviously, your network isn't as extensive as you thought."  
  
"Oh give me a break!" he exclaimed furiously. "I dropped hints all over the biggest gossips in town! Loudmouth Yuusuke and Kuwabara pounced on the news at Reikai Motion Pictures and the people at Houshin, and even Saitou! He'll pass it on to Kaoru who'll eventually get the word around to all the elite ladies in her circle. Then I made a trip west back to Graude Foundation and grabbed hold of pesky Seiya and Ikki who'll blab anything that's on their minds to whoever turns up to their drug infested parties, and that's a LOT of people who turn up I might add! Hell, I even bumped into Amelia from Slayers Corp on the way! Who have I missed out?!"  
  
"Apparently, your network has no plants at the library." Kuroro coughed slightly. "I must have missed something. Please inform me."  
  
"We'll tell you on the way to the gym, 'Dancho'" Ubo was grinning so hard that his facial muscles were hurting big time. But it wasn't every day that you had such spectacular and juicy piece of news to play around with. "You'll feel like a completely different person afterwards that you could probably do twenty on the treadmill tonight!"  
  
"I don't think so Ubo." The young man continued to utter quietly. "There's really nothing in the world that can elevate my miserable life."  
  
"Oh really?" Hisoka joined the group having finally rubbed all the make up off. His face was slightly pinkish. His eyes took on a slightly wild and haunted look, and his lips twisted in malicious relish. "Then this will hit you like no ecstasy or cocaine will. I promise."  
  
It was a darkly delicate and delicious atmosphere which was quickly shattered by Gon's cell phone, buzzing an incoming message. He quickly found out who it was from and his eyes glinted.  
  
"Hey guys, Killua's not going to meet us at gym tonight."  
  
"Slacker!" was a few people's immediately response.  
  
"But!" Gon quickly continued. "It seems that he's having dinner at home tonight, with his dad and grandpa, AND - "  
  
"And..." everyone echoed in anticipation.  
  
"They've got 'friends' over as well. Imagine that!"  
  
A few jaws slackened, some chins hit the floor with resounding thumps. They all looked amongst themselves, stunned and dazed like someone had all hit them with heavy punching bags. In a trance and unable to form coherent words, they stumbled out of the change rooms, down the red carpeted corridors, and disorientatedly left Hunter Works to go to Toguro Brother's Gym, wondering if the world was about to come to an end.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Alluka! What do you think you're doing dressed in that?" Killua thought he could soon die of shock seeing his younger brother dressed in tight leathers and chains. If people called him the Crown Prince of Bratdom, they have obviously not met his younger brother. The ever cheeky and defiant kid was already in his stages of rebellion at the tender age of ten, although most boys waited until they were fourteen.  
  
"How do I look? Think Dad and Grandpa will be impressed?"  
  
"Yes Alluka, *so* impressed that they'll ground you until you're twenty one." Killua drawled, ushering his brother back into his room. Even though he was only two years Alluka's senior, he felt immeasurably older than his age required him already. Sometimes, he resented the feeling, like he had been robbed of a youthful childhood like Alluka's that he could never reclaim. "Now, where were those Levi jeans of yours? Find that, put that on, and then slap on another decent shirt - that grey CK top comes to mind, and Dad will extend your curfew to 2am."  
  
Alluka's eyes widened considerably. "You serious? That's all I have to do?"  
  
Killua pursed his lips and thought for a moment. "And behave." He finally added. "I don't know who these people are, but we better put on the angelic act just in case. Never hurts to be cautious."  
  
"You've got no idea who's coming?" Alluka repeated again, for the fiftieth time since Killua broke the news to him. The siblings could hardly contain their excitement and curiosity, for no one had actually come and visited before.  
  
"For the last time, NO!" Killua stressed, almost exasperated.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"YES! Now hurry up and change!"  
  
"Killua? Why are you shouting?" Silva's questioning voice faintly floated upstairs. Both boys froze, partly in terror.  
  
"Dad's home!" Alluka squealed and slammed the door to quickly change and Killua was yet again rooted to the spot, unable to form a reasonable response.  
  
"Killua?"  
  
"Nothing's wrong dad. We've just finished getting changed." He called back down. There was a tense moment of silence but if finally died away as the racket from the kitchen roared through when the pantry doors were flung open.  
  
"He's nervous isn't he?" Alluka creaked his door open a fraction.  
  
His elder brother sighed. "Are you finished in there?"  
  
"Yes, yes.....angelic boy tonight Allu, angelic boy tonight, angelic boy tonight." He chanted over and over again, getting himself into the mood for the part he was to play. Killua couldn't help grinning. Lo, the Zoldick siblings hath been cursed with bratiness, and much will it taketh to overcome, he imagined Phinx saying with his grand hand gestures. What a guy!  
  
The entire Zoldick mansion came to a standstill however when the doorbell rang. Its chimes echoed done the lonely halls and corridors and the empty rooms. Even the birds seemed to have stopped chirping, all staring intently at the front door.  
  
Killua and Alluka looked at each other, sharing the same feelings, knowing that their hearts were pounding so loud that it shut out the world around them with a shroud of unreality. Like ghosts, they drifted down the swirling stairs and like frightened and shy children, crouched behind a particularly big ornamental vase to see who their dad would welcome into their home.  
  
The vision was blurry when Silva first swung open the massive gold inlaid double doors. Killua squinted and could make out the silhouette of 4 different people.  
  
Four!  
  
And then in seconds which lasted an eternity each, they all stepped into the light.  
  
At the forefront was a woman, in her early forties wearing a very pleasing and conservative black dress with cunning silver stitching along its helms. Alluka didn't miss the large diamond rings and earrings winking back at him however. 'Rich lady' immediately popped into his young and impressionable mind.  
  
Slightly behind her was a tall....person, dressed in a very respectable white silk shirt and lengthy black pants which accentuated his/her long and slender legs. Killua couldn't make out if his/her hair was either a terribly dark brown or a very light black, but either way, they had the very qualifications to make a Pantene Pro V model. Large, feline black eyes under finely plucked eyebrows never left Silva's direction. Slender pinkish lips lifted into a small smile and a pale slim hand with perfectly manicured nails was extended at his father in greeting. All this was done with the mechanical smoothness of one businessmen who greeted customers and potential tenders on a daily basis and acquired the informal but firmly polite rituals of greeting that existed in the exclusive corporate society. Apart from promo balls, no where in the universe would you find such liberal use of fake smiles coupled with poisonous thoughts or devilish back stabbing.  
  
Killua nodded at Alluka, who was equally as observant. They'd have to keep a close eye on the long haired one. If any of the four newcomers had any plans of threatening their father, the tall one would be the first to try.  
  
The last two to enter was a grossly fat boy who might be eighteen. His hair greased and gelled thickly as the occasion had called for, but the impression was that he would be much more comfortable if his hair lay untouched on his head, messy and unkempt. The bulging stomach was probably complaining as well, being sucked in painfully tightly by an unyielding leather belt, which looked pretty new, probably just acquired. Unlike the rest of his.family members, Killua dared to presume, he was wearing slip ons, which were rather like summer sandals only that they didn't open at the front.  
  
"Hey Killu, I've seen his face before!" Alluka urgently whispered in his ear. "He was in that mag that I bought last week - "  
  
"You buy lots of mags Allu." Killua patiently reminded him.  
  
Alluka pretended to ignore that. "I saw his face in PC Powerplay when the editors interviewed him for the latest game that's going to be released next month! I've been waiting for it since I heard of it last year." His small hands trembled in excitement as they clung onto Killua's arm. "That man is a genius I tell you! He's the one who started the whole RPG genre, starting with - "  
  
Killua didn't hear the endless barrage of excited babble from his sibling. The last to walk through the door in a pretty maroon sequenced dress and black shirt was a small girl, about two years younger than Alluka, putting on the angelic girl act too. Oh yes, they conferred to each other in silent agreement, the Zoldick boys could tell straight away whether you were in fact who you pretended to be.  
  
"Children," the woman announced in a voice which scratched at their eardrums "say hello to Silva-san."  
  
The impassive and formidable President and Director of Hunter Works, the man feared by all who in turn feared no one, actually gave a casual laugh.  
  
"No need to be so formal Kikyou. Please, come through to the sitting room, dinner's almost ready. Killu, Allu, why don't you two come out from behind the vase and join us?"  
  
Killua's stomach knotted in fear, as did Alluka's wide and fearful eyes. Did they just hear annoyance in their father's voice? They quickly did janken to see who should come out of their hiding place first, and Alluka miserably lost, as always.  
  
He swallowed the uncomfortable lump in his throat and wiped the sweaty palms onto his jeans. "Angelic boy Alluka, angelic boy Alluka, angelic boy." He whispered to himself fervently, then struck a cherry grin on his face and stepped out into the light. Killua likewise drew deep breaths and feigned a sincere welcome with eyes raised slightly to show how interested he was in the newcomers.  
  
"Kikyou, these are my two sons, Killua and Alluka."  
  
The woman clasped her hands together meaningfully and cooed in adoration. "My Silva! They look just like a replica of you!"  
  
Both boys endured the humiliating head rubs that all adults bestowed upon them, and their shining bright eyes and happy smiles did not once waver. They prided themselves in such acts to fool grown ups, and it amazed them how many times it had worked, over and over again, the same old routine that never got too old for the world.  
  
The butler closed the doors and accepted their light coats and jackets, quietly and unobtrusively walking away to stow the garments into the closet. Kikyou ignored the butler, every inch an aristocratic or lady of high society. She turned to her own children and introduced them.  
  
"This is my eldest son, Illumi, Milluki is this chubby boy here and my dear little Karuto-chan."  
  
Words akin to 'fag' and 'homo' immediately popped up into the little boys' limited minds as they finally confirmed the tall boy's sex. Milluki was already impersonally known to Alluka as the almighty games and software developer, and Karuto looked surprisingly familiar although where they'd seen her remained elusive to their overly excited minds.  
  
Illumi was the first to step forward. He also extended his hand to Killua with a pleasant smile. But a splinter of ice struck Killua's heart as he suddenly couldn't decide whether it was genuine or fake. Having grown up in an artificial world of formality and ceremonial greetings which carried no feeling or meaning, he could usually perceive what people thought even though they smiled, and could read body language like a fat piece of Tolstoy. But from Illumi's movement and words, he gathered nothing but unbearable emptiness, an intangibility so frustratingly within reach, a brick wall so tall that it was impossible to scale and breach. Who was this monster with the soft gentle features and the supposedly warm sign in body language? A deceptive void of chilling cold and never-ending solitude dressed in sheep's clothing? He looked up to meet Illumi's eyes and involuntarily took a step back with his poor wheezing heart pounding terror.  
  
People could never mask their feelings completely. Their eyes were always there to betray them for since time immemorial, God dictated that they were the windows to our souls, a way for humans to truly know what the other felt so that none of us would ever feel truly alone in this harsh and remorseless world. Hence in so many classic romance movies, couples would always stare longingly and lovingly into each others eyes, for it was the surest way to ascertain one's feelings towards the other.  
  
And what did he see in Illumi's eyes?  
  
Nothing. Simply nothing. A blankness so deep without end, a lifelessness that failed to reflect the world around him. An unnatural barrier blocking all forms of genuine expression.  
  
Using the last vestiges of sanity, he forced his own cold and clammy hand to rise up and take the older boy's warmer one with great effort.  
  
Crazily, he wondered why no one had spotted his unusual behaviour. Maybe his own mask was also too securely fixed in place that they did not see his hair raising reaction?  
  
Illumi continued with his introductory speech. "I've seen you in many magazines at social meetings, promoting Hunter x Hunter. You're very impressive, to have accomplished so much for your age already. I was still throwing dirt at school when I was twelve."  
  
Obligatory praise, Alluka thought harshly, his world and territory all of a sudden sensing an unknown and looming threat which had already strangled and mesmerized his brother and would inevitably swallow him if he didn't act.  
  
"Oni-chan, you have such pretty hair." He interrupted, forming the last line of defence for his older brother, his voice dripped pure honey and eyes lit up with adoring fascination. "Have you ever thought of doing commercials for shampoo products perhaps?"  
  
Grim Reaper's eyes shifted and applied its unbearable pressure on young Alluka. Illumi laughed, a small, clear and silver sound.  
  
"I wish! But alas, they don't accept men for those jobs, only shaving commercials, only shaving commercials." He muttered good humoredly.  
  
"Why don't we all move to the sitting room and have a cup of tea and continue there." Silva took Kikyou's arm with a gentlemen's manners and lead the family to their sitting area.  
  
How relieved Killua and Alluka were when Illumi informed them that he had pressing business matters and could not stay for long. In fact, he had to leave before dinner was served, but he expressed how grateful and honoured he was for the invitation to dinner, said and did all the right things and even bowed slightly before he left.  
  
Half an hour later, Killua and Alluka could finally stop shaking and shivering, and their stomach even loosened up enough for them to enjoy the dinner. Afterwards, Milluki even showed Alluka how to take his PC apart and upgrade it whilst Karuto went with Killua to raid the kitchens for more ice cream. Grandpa Zeno also came in a little while later to join them, leaving Kikyou and Silva to talk in private.  
  
Killua would always curse himself for this day, not having realized earlier what was going on when everything was already so blatantly obvious. But they say that although children have an amazing grasp of some of the most complex matters, things such as love, marriage and betrayal were still new and unfamiliar territory to them...  
  
But he should have known better! Even suspected at least.  
  
Instead, he was busy having a sugar rush from excess consumption of lollies and ice cream, plus a bad dose of the musical Annie on tv, which lead him to sing and dance away the rest of the night with Karuto like the common drunkard from the local pub. During that night, not once did he suspect that his life was about to take a massive upheaval, one which had been deliberately planned and organized a long time ago. 


	3. Chapter 3 Suspension!

Chapter 3  
  
Suspension?!  
  
Wednesday morning, 9 am.  
  
The Genei Ryodan collective scenes bought out the worst and best in everyone. Early in the bright summer morning, Hisoka was trapped in a dark and dirty room balancing crazily on top of a stack of unstable boxes and rotting wooden beams and looking down, far, far below at the people beneath him. This was supposed to represent a room in an abandoned and crumbling building, where the members of the Spider had transformed it into a contemporary hideout base. Only that he didn't feel like a part of the Ryodan, and he certainly didn't feel very safe in this hideout either.  
  
"Damn this" he muttered to himself, wondering how on earth he had managed to clamber up the mountain of junk to reach where he was in the first place, or who had been able to persuade him to do such a reckless thing. Now that he was fully aware of his surroundings, he numbly realized that he couldn't find a way down. Tears threatened to well up in his eyes and despair clutched at his heart but he refused to give in. Instead, he gave his throat a clear cough and caught April's attention.  
  
Her mousy brown hair was unusually neat and tidy this morning, and her outfit looked entirely stylish. This was very different from the pragmatic, take-no-crap April that they had always known. Perhaps she had a date today?  
  
"What is it Hisoka-san?"  
  
Her voice seemed so very distant from where Hisoka sat, and this caused his hands to tightly clench onto the most stable piece of piping he could find and grip it even harder until his knuckles became a frosty white. Cold sweat broke out but he was too afraid to remove his hand from his hold to wipe them from his brow. He tried not to sound too uptight or nervous.  
  
"Is there a really long ladder around?"  
  
The cameraman didn't know whether to look puzzled or exasperated. She was also slightly amused that Hisoka - the most popular actor in Hunter Works who could command the attention of any person with a few mere words and gestures, was reduced to sounding like a tortured little boy. The oppressive gloom and dim lights easily dissipated whatever aura of assuring confidence and magnetism that the magician usually had, and suddenly, he seemed very human. But surely she had more busy and pressing matters to do right now. It was obvious that the magician was suffering some discomfort from perching high aloft in the unstable structure, but please! It's totally safe.  
  
Or that was what the Director had promised.  
  
And the strange thing was, the Director was unusually co-operative today, not to mention downright subtly cheery. His sudden elevated mood frightened the actors most of all, and this was evident in the way Phinx's eyes continually darted left and right, like a trapped animal strangled with fear, or Nobu, who grasped his katana with unusual awkwardness and constantly fidgeted with his clothing. Paku tried to avoid eye contact with the Director and Kuroro stuck his nose in his book at every chance he got.  
  
There it was again! A certain amount, almost negligible but most definitely there, a trace of warmth and humanity in the Director's voice, a voice which April had once been certain could not bend or yield to humor or happiness. But what was that slightly perceptible hint of secret joy in his cold eyes or his resolute expression?  
  
'Concentrate on your task at hand April. If the Director is happy, he's happy, but I wouldn't want to push it any farther by actually *asking* him about it in case I tip this delicate equilibrium.' She chided and scowled at herself for becoming like a curious housewife like Hanzo - totally unacceptable to her profession. New strength surged in her, boosted by her profession's ethics and conduct, and she held herself proud, doing her job as the Director required. But she would quietly observe this phenomenon, studying the causes and effects, and if she objectively deemed by the end of the day (devoid of ecstatic hope of course) that Director Silva had indeed become an amiable, sociable human being, she would summon up the courage and lead a conversation onto a topic about wage rises. A small triumphant smile graced her pink glossed lips. Toby had been right - new clothes, new haircut, facial and entire makeup brand change definitely made you feel like a different purchase.  
  
But the remainder of the Genei Ryodan actors however, did not share her confidence and capability of dealing with the logically defying situation. The fearful Director's smile for once didn't seem like the snarl of a wolf on a prowl. Rather, it was a smile of...friendliness? And was the thousand year old iceberg finally starting to melt? Because Silva sure seemed like a warm human being on this Wednesday morning. All actors were convinced that this was impossible, but the very impossible was beginning to materialize in front of their eyes.  
  
Huddled in one secret and exclusive corner, Machi, Shizuku and Feitan gossiped like crazy and their whispers rivaled the chitter of a colony of ants.  
  
"I'm feeling quiet threatened by this new perception of reality." The short, masked man named Feitan tried to calmly pronounce, only that he couldn't keep the waver from his voice or the constrictions in this throat so in the end, he produced a muffled squeak. He was grateful his co-actors didn't laugh, and he could at least cling onto this last bit of dignity.  
  
"If you had turned up to our weekly gym nights, you would have been introduced to this new world by acquiring a mind shattering piece of information last night!" Machi hissed venomously, but then quickly looked around to see if anyone heard and make a check to keep her voice down. She lowered her hisses down to a mere whisper: "Killua didn't come to gym last night either, and you know why?"  
  
"Quit it with the smugness and spill the beans!"  
  
"He *said* that they were having friends over for dinner. 'Friends' - those were the exact words he used." Machi's eyes glittered almost fever brightly with curiosity.  
  
Feitan gaped, but his uncomfortable clothes hid whatever expression he had, save for the ever slanting of his eyes. Shizuku's wide eyes became impossibly huge too, but she hid them well behind the magnification of her thick lens glassed. She nudged closer to Machi.  
  
"And how many other people know about this?" she said in a conspiratorial tone.  
  
But Feitan still refused to buy the news. "How do we know that Killua wasn't *really* trying to slack off on a gym night by making up a fantastic story like that? Are we forgetting that Killua Zoldick is the unofficial Prince of Bratdom Himself? The Almighty Pesk, the Mosquito that just Won't Go Away, The Bender of Truths? Lets face it, we all hate gym nights. I hate seeing Ubo and Toguro flex their pectorals or Dancho's perfect abs. In fact, I'd even say that it was my mother's funeral just to get out of gym nights."  
  
"But Feitan," Machi persisted unrelentingly, "the Director actually looks like he's in a *good mood* today! How can you explain that unusual marvel unless you have yet another fantastical story to go with it! I'm betting that the Zoldicks DID have people over last night..."  
  
"And that they are connected with the change of personalities in the Director." Shizuku finished off with a small smile on her lips.  
  
Feitan looked hard at his two co-workers, wondering if they suddenly knew the enormous implications that went with their little idle gossiping. His eyes narrowed disbelievingly.  
  
"Oh my god" the realization finally dawned on him and his voice and glare became accusatory. "You're one of those nutcases who believe that the FBI are in a conspiracy to cover up that aliens do exist! You think that the Zoldicks were attacked by Aliens last night and that they have actually killed the Director and that what we are actually seeing is just the Director's skin being manipulated by the alien beneath!" That was said with a triumphantly horrified flourish.  
  
Some moments were best left wordless.  
  
Or in Machi and Shizuku's case, frozen into utter stupor to stare at the short kid before them.  
  
"...I said, could we gather!" Silva raised his voice and people immediately snapped to attention. With everyone's absolute concentration focused on every single word that the Director had to say, few, if at all any, noticed Hisoka trying to clamber down the construct.  
  
His face was beaded with perspiration, his hair damp with it, and his slim grey eyes were sparkling bright but unfocused, as if he were looking very far away. The world swam around him in a diabolical dance of colours and vague shapes with fuzzy outlines. He felt his throat suddenly dry up like the Sahara desert, or the lost wanderer in the vast sea of golden sand. Strength drained from his limbs, all the way to his slender fingers which now trembled violently with the slightest movement and knees which buckled and were threatening to collapse. He suddenly felt very cold.  
  
Then abruptly, his whole sense of balance gave way and he swore that he had somehow been relieved of gravity.  
  
The rest of the people all looked horrified as Hisoka mindlessly tumbled from the apex of the setting and painfully crashed to the floor with an ungodly and sickening crunch.  
  
There was a numb and astonished silence which quickly broke out into shouts and cries of frenzy and confusion. Some turned to stone and could only watch on, morbidly fascinated, whilst others took initiative to see how the magician fared.  
  
Toby the assistant cameraman could never the sight of blood. Even a paper cut would cause him to have innumerable shivers which ran up and down his spine. To see such a large gash on the side of Hisoka's temple sapped him of whatever strength his legs originally had and his breakfast was clamoring to be free from his stomach. Disregarding any sense of pride or dignity, his first reaction was to bolt on weak and fragile legs to the nearest bathroom and chuck up so that he wouldn't mess the studio.  
  
Kuroro and Shalnark immediately dropped to their knees beside Hisoka to see if the reckless clown was still conscious. But gazing into Hisoka's unfocused eyes and soft, mocking smile still on his lips, they backed away slightly, shaking their heads. It was all too evident that Hisoka himself didn't know what was going on.  
  
"Damnit Hisoka! Why do you do this to yourself?" Kuroro's eyebrows furrowed and his forehead creased in part pity, shame and disgust. Shalnark could only make helpless gestures to Silva, working his mouth with increasing fervour to force those words out.  
  
It finally came through in a defeated whisper. "Hisoka-san's high on drugs again." And Shalnark quickly looked away to avoid Silva Zoldick's dark gaze, the dread of the consequences already causing the demons of fear to smile sickly at him.  
  
  
  
==========  
  
12:30 pm - Hunter Works Level 2  
  
"No way!" Killua exclaimed quietly as a small buzzed filled the boisterous café on Level 2 of the Hunter Works building. It was almost lunch time and the cooks and waitresses were already busy getting things ready to handle the large onslaught of people to come. Sometimes, people from Reikai Motion Pictures also paid the level 2 dining hall a visit for it was new, the chefs were of decent caliber and they were frankly sick of their own bland meals provided by the ever strict and immovable Enma-sama.  
  
Machi sat opposite Killua. On her left was Feitan and her right was Shizu. They had been the first ones to leave the setting, followed quickly by Paku and Nobu who constantly kept gazing back, still curious. Nobunaga had gone to fetch them all drinks and Pakunoda sat facing Shizu.  
  
She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "You have no idea what it was like to have been there." Her husky alto voice was still laced with shock. "Just watching him fall from that height was painful enough."  
  
"I already thought that something was wrong with him this morning." Shizu's quiet voice spoke through firmly. "I mean, I wouldn't have climbed up to where he was sitting even if Silva-sama offered me the main role for Hunter x Hunter. You either had to be insane or on a high to even attempt to scale that setting."  
  
Machi rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately for us all, Hisoka's both. I don't mean to sound uncompassionate or anything, but my brother's known Hisoka for years because they both graduated from Actor's Academy in the same year. He tells me that back then, Hisoka's always been this wild, and I don't think time has changed that in the least."  
  
"HEY KILLUA! DID YOU HEAR - "  
  
"Gon! Over here and keep your voice down!" Killua frantically hissed and grabbed the boy who was running towards him at breakneck speed. He caught Gon in a friendly headlock. "How many times must I remind you to keep that overly enthusiastic attitude of yours under check?!"  
  
"Give up! Give up!" Gon hollered, wildly flinging his arms and pushing at Killua in vain. The others shared a small, genuine smile. "Gees Killua!" he young star of Hunter panted, regaining his breath. His cheeks were slightly red and flustered and his carefully combed hair was starting to fray. "I come to work today and everyone's buzzing with news and gossip! About Hisoka too! Is it true?"  
  
Feitan narrowed his eyes. "It depends on what you heard."  
  
Gon took his seat on the other side of Killua and looked around at everyone. "I just heard that he's in big trouble and ended up in sickbay. Killua...did your father beat up Hisoka?"  
  
Machi flinched and Feitan's forehead connected with the table, but he felt no pain. Shizuku fell out of her seat. Only Killua could laugh. He gave Gon a small pat on the back.  
  
"Of course not! But my dad might as well have beat him up. Hisoka was away with the fairies, so to speak, during the shoot today."  
  
Gon frowned and Machi sighed.  
  
"That's just another expression of being on a high. The stupid clown had obviously taken drugs this morning, and he fell from pretty high up She patiently explained. "He got an especially deep cut right here." Machi indicated to her own temple and traced where the gash would have been. "We ran as soon as it happened, so we didn't see the blood of course." Or the Director's looming anger, she added silently to herself.  
  
Gon's pensive attitude got everyone in dull moods. Shizuku muttered her thanks to Nobu for grabbing the drinks, but thoughts clouded everyone's minds.  
  
"Does anyone know why Hisoka's doing that? I mean, I heard that people who dabble with narcotics usually have some pretty depressive and dark stuff to hide." Gon moodily stared at his drink and didn't touch it.  
  
There were some things in the adult world that he still had yet to come to grips with. Sometimes, he blamed his manager Mito from shielding him from anything remotely social. She restricted his nights out, made sure that he attended ALL gym nights, even if he was sick and down with the flu, and scrutinized each and every one of his friends and acquaintances, then made horrible and vindictive judgements about them. And she didn't bother to hide her contempt in front of them either, which just made Gon less popular with just about everyone, and meant that he was barely invited to any parties. He was twelve years old already, and that qualified him to go to Seiya's parties, but Mito consistently refused.  
  
But Killua understood him, if only because Mito wouldn't dare to offend the son of the Director and President of Hunter Works. Killua had grown up in this superficial world of fake courtesies and politeness that he often knew what people thought, even if people were kind and friendly with them. Killua believed that there was always an ulterior motive in the hearts of men, so that he should be on his guard constantly. Gon tried that for a while, but found it tiring and difficult to constantly maintain suspicious and cynical thoughts about the people around him. The more he thought about it, the more he would become someone as detestable as Mito if he continued with the cynicism.  
  
"Hisoka's just a wild party animal Gon, and doesn't know his limits and boundaries sometimes. And then, there are some people who like the exhilarating rush you get from the amphetamines as well. I've heard Valentine Wolfe describe it as riding a tidal wave at its peak and maintaining the fragile balance whilst you peer over the edge at everything down below. Probably makes you feel like a god." Killua pushed the drink closer to Gon and silently urged him to take a sip.  
  
"Well," Nobu sighed with resolution. "there's nothing to be achieved sitting here and brooding. We keep this quiet or not?" He looked directly at Killua.  
  
The young albino child nodded slowly. "Best to keep it quiet and under wraps. Others don't need to know."  
  
Nobunaga acquiesced, then folded his arms with renewed energy. "Change of topic, and it has to do with the Director. He was acting REALLY different this morning, and I'm not going back inside the studios unless I find out what's going on, or I'm going to have to book an appointment with my psych tonight to see if I'm suffering hallucinations."  
  
"Machi and Shizuku believe that aliens visited your place last night and ate your father, Killua." Feitan calmly and smoothly announced. "They also believe that the aliens are animating your father's skin."  
  
Feitan's head connected quite severely again with the table as Machi and Shizuku both implanted their fist in the back of his head with nerves standing on their foreheads.  
  
"We do NOT think that!" Machi declared hotly, feeling rather embarrassed too.  
  
"And you can stop your snickering Nobu, or I'll whack you over the head with Deme-chan!" Shizuku threatened, eyes sparkling with revitalized energy.  
  
Gon looked around him, amazed at the sudden revitalization of energy in everyone after the mind numbing shock from this morning's incident. He grinned, realizing that everyone was starting to feel better at Killua's expense. He took a big slurp at the hot chocolate that Nobunaga had also gotten for him.  
  
"My first hypothesis," Pakunoda gave Killua a sly and knowing look of a successful code breaker "is based on my knowledge and experience that men are simple creatures with simple pleasures." Her smile turned positively and seductively predatory. "Director-sama last night must have acquired one of these few simple pleasures, no?"  
  
Nobunaga choked on his drink and his face instantly turned bright red at Paku's innuendo. Machi looked down hard with two spots of pink on her cheeks and trying not to over-react like Nobu whilst Shizuku gasped and covered her mouth.  
  
"Please Paku, not in front of the children!" Shizu exclaimed with moralistic mortification.  
  
"Oh give me a break!" Paku said lightly, running a hand through her thin light brown hair. "You think twelve year old kids are still innocent today? Killua," she sternly addressed. "when was the last time you used your father's credit card to visit a porn website or acquired related videos and magazines?"  
  
There was a long, stunned silence.  
  
Gon blinked owlishly at Killua whilst Nobu beside him gaped and wheezed like a fish on dry land, dying for air and unable to evolve and adapt to breath in the atmosphere. The young assassin looked so incredulous but at the same time, his face went red, all the way to the tips of his ears. He fought hard to maintain his composure lest his stutter and stammer incomprehensibly.  
  
Pakunoda laughed out loud with her alluringly husky voice at everyone's discomfort and put a comforting arm around the albino child, deliberately pressing the side of his cheek against one of the fuller aspects of her figure. As she was still in her Hunter clothes sporting the (soon to be infamous) open, fitted jacked, she put Killua in a position which gave him a *very* gratuitous and provocative view of her assets. Steam began to shoot from Killua's ears.  
  
"That's ok kid, just joking, just joking!" she laughed some more and finally released him, also putting him out of his misery. Gon summoned his courage came to Killua's defence.  
  
"There's nothing suspicious or indecent about people coming over for dinner!" he tried to sound steady and haughty in an attempt to make them all look stupid for causing such a fuss over a matter so small. "It's the same with me. If my worthless dad actually came over and had dinner with us for once instead of going off on some wild expedition down in the leach infested jungles of South America, I'd be happy too!" He glanced down briefly and bitterly at his drink, but his innocent brown eyes hardened with resolve and determination. "But no, as he hasn't been home for most of my life, I just wish that he'd catch Ebola so that he's not allowed entry back into this country and remains in qurantine forever!"  
  
Feitan frowned. Somewhere deep inside him, he was touched by Gon and Killua's plight, but the fact was, the Director was acting weird, and thus he was still unconvinced. "But this is the Director and President of Hunter Works that we are talking about. No offence or anything ill intended about your father of course, Killua," he politely added, "but what I'm saying is that it takes more than *mere friends* to cause a COMPLETE change of character, however subtle it may have seemed."  
  
Everyone else had their arms folded, eyes closed deep in thought and nodded fiercely in agreement.  
  
Killua felt like a small mouse, the type of mouse stuck in labs where scientists crippled them and tried to heal them of their paralysis with embryonic stem cells. He was trapped in a small desolate corner watching in terror as vicious, skinny alley cats with tuffs of fur missing on their malnourished bodies advanced with saliva drooling from their sharpened teeth. He felt rising panic. What to do? What to say?  
  
"What do you want me to say?" he gulped.  
  
Nobunaga perked up with new interest. "Ah! At last we reach the exciting part. Let's start with names Killua, names, their description and any background history that you know about them!"  
  
And the Brat Prince frowned at this question. His defiance gushed back into his blood streams like it had been released in a powerful explosion. His frown rapidly became a fierce, and he rumbled a challenging growl.  
  
"Hold on just one minute here!" he hollered aloud. "What gives you the right to pry into who comes over to dinner anyway! It's not like I ask Nobunaga who he was rooting last night do I? Or what Machi keeps thinking about every time Youzen arrives at the same club that we visit after gym nights."  
  
"Hey! No diverting the topic here with grungy gossip about us!" Nobu's temper threatened to rise and his nostrils flared slightly. "This is just about you, and the Director, and I believe you're somehow accountable to us because it's almost frightening to work with someone who really isn't the Director that we've come to know. How are we supposed to do good acting if we are so nervous and uptight about all our words and actions - not knowing what will offend him and what will not?"  
  
"Um...Killua - " Gon began in a small voice.  
  
"You'd try to pick it out of me too?!" Killua's tone rose several octaves.  
  
Gon frantically shook his head and hands in denial. He bobbed his head down slightly to prevent anyone seeing the slight blush creeping across his cheeks and continued. "It's just that...you watched Annie?!"  
  
"Yes!" Killua enthusiastically leapt up onto the bench that he had been sharing with Gon, Paku and Nobunaga and placed one foot on the table as well. The bench and table shook slightly under the impact. Killua took in a deep breath and declared grandiosely to all the people already gathered in the lunch area. "I watched Annie last night! And I will now prove it!"  
  
"Prove?" Machi echoed with growing distress. Everyone who was already gathered and milling around aimlessly in the dining hall-cum-café were already beginning to fail to disguise their curiosity or looks in their directions. Machi didn't mind people looking, in fact, she quite enjoyed attention, it's just that she'd like *some* say in the kind of attention that she was receiving right now.  
  
Killua gently closed his eyes and drew in another long, deep breath and he held one arm out away in front of him. Indeed, just as Feitan feared, he was about to sing.  
  
"The sun will come ouuuut! Tomorrow!"  
  
The actors who had previously been sitting around Killua immediately began to edge away with eyes as wide as saucers.  
  
"Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrooooow, there'll be suuuun!"  
  
~Oh god~ they all thought in dull and embarrassed silence. One by one, they glanced at each other and wordlessly debated whether they should start slinking away. "Yes" they all thought "attention's one thing. This is another. We don't want to be here anymore. Let us dissociate ourselves from him."  
  
One by one, they slid further down the bench - some made for the nearest door with a sprint masked as limping whilst crouched down as low as possible to avoid people recognizing them. Others first hid under the table, then through a series of clever scuttles, traced an under-table path to the nearest exist.  
  
Only Gon remained glued to his seat, and he wondered why his legs had suddenly felt like betraying him and stubbornly refused to move. "Dear lords" he cried out miserably to himself, "he's reached the bridge!"  
  
"When I'm stuck in a daaay, that's graaay, and loooneley! I just stick out my chiiiiin, and griiin, and siiIING!"  
  
Gon's heart beat like angry thunder in his ears, loud and deafening, but it still couldn't drown out the awful reality around him. Wing had said to him that a man sometimes have to face some terrifying things so that he could become a braver person. He decided very emphatically that this was one of those moments that he had to 'conquer'. But did that mean socking the living daylights out of Killua when this was over? Or did he have to seek out his own inner demons to deal with? Especially the little pesks called Fright, Stupor, Humiliation and Bewilderment. Gon fervently swore that he'd find them gave give them very good kicks after this was over.  
  
And finally, Killua reached the grand chorus. He was fully into it now, with his eyes closed and brows slightly furrowed. His young trembling alto voice was strong and carried to every crook and cranny of the large room, and perhaps even down the corridors too.  
  
"TOMORROW! TOMORROW! I LOVE YOOOU, TOMORROOOOW, YOU'RE ONLEEY A DAAAAY AAAAAWAAAAY!"  
  
Killua breathlessly came to a grand finale and he expected in his mind the thunderous applause of his many adoring fans and listeners. But instead, he was greeted with a dull silence, a heavy, oppressive silence save the savage harsh sound of his own panting breath.  
  
He finally opened his eyes and saw that the entire room which had almost been packed before was now empty, not a soul in sight, save Gon, who sat rigidly by his side.  
  
And Grandpa Zeno, who looked at him from the open doorway with stunned incredulity. He looked as though he had been standing there for quite a while and honestly did not know what to say when Killua began to sing to the entire café.  
  
That was when reality came crashing back to Killua and he immediately remembered what had been going on just moments earlier. He leapt down from his pose and pulled Gon along behind him as he bolted for the closet exit, not knowing whether he should be laughing hysterically as he did so or ready to burst into tears at the confusion and sudden madness that had taken a grip on him.  
  
==============  
  
Hisoka gingerly fingered the bandage wrapped tightly around his forehead and wordlessly complained to himself how it was very itchy, or how his impeccable hairstyle had been totally crushed out of shape by the merciless white material. The elevator carried him up to the highest level of the building, and even though others wanted to go up along the way, the preferred to wait for another elevator instead.  
  
Of course. No one wanted to share the same room with a person who was potentially about to loose his job. The bad luck might just rub off on them.  
  
Level 10 of the Hunters Works building was lavishly luxurious. The ceiling edges were laced with elaborate and intricate carvings of ancient Grecian gods and beauties in graceful stance and poses. Its white, pristine and spotless walls were embellished with priceless portraits in heavy, ornamental golden frames. The floors were no longer carpeted by laid down with expensive Italian marble, specially imported to replace the special Indian carpets that the architects had already planned.  
  
The large black mahogany double doors inlaid with gold edges with equally impressive brass handles soon came into view. Under the intense glare of the spotlights that light up the hallway, Hisoka felt exactly like a meek animal about to be dissected by the most successful and vicious predator ever to have stalked the ruthless world.  
  
His unusually pale hand was balled up in a tight fist and he was just about to knock on the large doors.  
  
"Come in." Came the unmistakably cold tone of the President before his hand even rapped the wood.  
  
Hisoka swallowed the lump of rising fear and forced himself to calm down. He applied pressure to the icy cold brass door handle and put his weight behind the door and pushed himself forward.  
  
In a silent hiss, the door gave way after initial resistance and swung open.  
  
Silva Zoldick's room could simply be described as cold - as cold and emotionless as his own icy self. On Hisoka's right was a massive fireplace that was unlit, and on top the mantelpiece above lay many priceless and exquisite figurines and other small delicate artifacts. On the left hand side of the room was a massive bookcase lined with numerous thick spined books, their silver bindings dully gleaming at the only light source in the room - the small, almost faint desk lamp on Silva's strong and sturdy oak table. Behind him were large windows that ran from ceiling to floor, but at the same time, there were also thick, heavy black velvet draped which blocked out every shred of daylight.  
  
"This is it" Hisoka steeled himself for the inevitable "this is where my career finishes."  
  
Silva did not acknowledge the magician as he entered the room, his eyes never leaving the reports and books scattered messily across the table. He finally looked up after a heavy silence.  
  
When he spoke, his voice was unyielding and deathly icy. "This is the last chance I'm going to give you." He spoke each word with clarity but with a threatening implication.  
  
To hell with any underlying threats, Hisoka hid his broadening smile, his hopes rapidly rising like the evening tide.  
  
"However," Silva abruptly cut off his ascending joyous mood "I will not let this incident go unpunished and the time you subsequently wasted at the shoot today with your accident. Therefore..."  
  
"Therefore?" Hisoka silently echoed.  
  
"Therefore I'm ordering a two week suspension - get counselling, rehab, detox, whatever. Just don't come back to my studios with an iota of drugs in your system or you won't even get this chance. Is that understood?"  
  
Hisoka gave a small nod. He was about to turn and leave when Silva spoke again.  
  
"Also, as part of your punishment package, I want you to show this person around the studio and around town. He's new and I'm planning to give him a small part in Hunter x Hunter - returning a favour for a friend you see."  
  
And that surprised Hisoka the most - the fact that the President of Hunter Works felt the need to explain his actions. He had never done that before.  
  
"His name is Illumi, and he's basically new to town, so just show him around to all the places Killua and you people hang out after work, start him on a basic training program at the gym as well. Make sure he fits in ok?" Silva smirked cruelly at Hisoka's reaction. "yes, you'll still have to attend the weekly gym nights even though you're suspended for the next two weeks. Very well, you're dismissed."  
  
=============  
  
6:30pm  
  
Toguro Brother's Gym could be described as a clean and hygienic place. The inside was lined from top to bottom with clear, spotless mirrors, and the only revealing parts of the wall were a clean light blue. Bright white lights lit the room up so that every inch of the body could be inspected on the mirrors and every pose admired. The janitors constantly meandered their way around the members of the gym unobtrusively to vacuum the stiff, dark blue carpets and ventilation was always kept at a maximum, making you breathe in an utter BO free air.  
  
A line of black, polished treadmills and bicycles lined the window side of the workout level, and directly opposite were the weights and trainers. The crunching abdominals or working biceps and back muscles all screamed and ached for oxygen with rivulets of sweat running down shiny, bare backs.  
  
Hisoka was exerting unusual fervour and energy, attacking his punching bag like he was beating the living daylights out of his most hated foe. His singlet was already drenched wet with sweat and perspiration flicked off his rapidly moving arms as he exerted every ounce of energy against the hapless, dull red and worn punching bag. Every now and then, he would let out a frustrated and angry grunt or growl after landing a particularly heavy rabbit punch or a high kick and people either inconspicuously moved away or just looked on in slight amusement.  
  
Hisoka spun around and landed a kick so hard that the chains suspending the large sandbag groaned painfully like the dying hinges on a rusted iron gate, the heavy bag heaved upward then with a stunning awkward scream the links on the chain gave way and the bag crashed to the ground with an unimpressive thud.  
  
Gon wondered what was wrong. Hisoka usually didn't act up like this, if at all. Not to mention the magician's constant irritable scratching at his bandaged head. His manager Mito always told him not to scratch or pick at his scabs if he didn't want his skin to scar. When he complained, she crossly told him to 'take it like a man'. He had some trouble understanding what that meant - did it also mean that Hisoka was not acting like a man right now? But he just took out a 200kg punching bag!  
  
Killua didn't pay Hisoka much attention. His personal trainer was trying to explain to him how to get back on both feet from the position of lying flat on your back in one, fluid movement. He banged the back of his head hard on the ground after several unsuccessful attempts but firmly reined in the tears of pain. Instead, his trainer then sent him off of do more weights and recommended a class or two of stretching and yoga with Toguro ani. So he went back to his machine and began working on his back muscles, bringing his arms forward as the weights felt increasingly heavy.  
  
But everyone else knew that Hisoka was obviously in a bad mood. Only one person had the gall to challenge him. Leorio leaned forward casually on his bicycle and smirked at Hisoka.  
  
"Hey Hisoka, I heard what happened today."  
  
The magician rolled his eyes. "Who hasn't?"  
  
"Well then, I guess after this little incident, you will have fallen from the Director's graces for good?" it sounded more like a triumphant declaration rather than a question, and everyone knew exactly what Leorio meant. Hisoka on the other hand, didn't look the least bit fazed.  
  
"I've only been suspended for 2 weeks. But that's not what I'm angry about!" He hopped onto a step walker and furiously pushed up and down. "I'm actually fine with that, no questions asked. I'm just pissed off that I'm going to have to chaperone some kid around in the meantime, helping Silva do his dirty work."  
  
His furious scowl was enough to warn the others to remain silent, but the man aspiring to be a doctor in Hunter x Hunter dared to laugh.  
  
"I suppose you should get used to demeaning jobs as such my dear Hisoka, because that's probably all you'll get to do from now on!"  
  
The magician did not rise to the bait however. Instead, he merely smiled ferociously and stared at Leorio with such intensely furious eyes that even Leorio had to look away.  
  
"I'm not your dear Leorio, whatever your private, social activities trend towards, and remind me not to hold back when I beat the crap out of you in the outdoor scene coming up in four weeks time."  
  
Everyone looked at the broken punching bag lying desolately on the floor, then at Leorio, then looked away, shaking their heads and sighing, the type of sigh you give to a dying man. He got the threat, removed himself from Hisoka's presence and everyone gave a small cheer when Leorio left.  
  
"Come on Hisoka, it won't be that bad. What exactly do you have to do with this kid?"  
  
"I don't know, the usual stuff perhaps." Hisoka frowned a bit at Kuroro's question. "Show him around Hunter Works, explain to him where the other major studios are located in the city, and in the Director's exact words - bring him here on gym nights and take him with us afterwards to dinner and whatever parties we go to."  
  
Nobu grimaced a bit. "Don't you think you should lay off the partying for a while?"  
  
"Yes yes," Hisoka replied mechanically. "with a kid hanging on the back of my coat for the next two weeks, I'm sure most of my usual circles will have completely forgotten who I am by the time this is all over."  
  
Bashou gave a grunt as he finally finished with the weights. "Look Hisoka, you're a part of Hunter Works, so at least you know that we'd never abandon you. In the next two weeks, you just keep your head down, and when the storm finally blows over, you can get back to your previous lifestyle, but of course, it's up to you whether of not you want to tone it down a bit if you don't want incidents like what happened today to reoccur."  
  
"That's right!" Kurapika joined in. "My mum tells me to stay away from alcohol, drugs, cigarettes and any white powder which is to be sniffed. She says that it will ruin my brains if I try any of that stuff. And besides," he continued a bit more somberly "I've met some of these people who take too much of this stuff where I work at the community service center...and none of them are happy people. You want to be happy right Hisoka?"  
  
It was hard to argue with the sincere and innocent Kurapika who had the brains of a jellyfish. Even though he was eighteen, he listened to every word of his mother like it was the gospel of truth and was still trying to handle year 7 maths even though most people his age were qualifying for university entrance exams already. In short, he was your very bimbo who lacked common sense, but since he couldn't grasp and handle deceit or sarcasm, whatever he said was genuine and laid plain for you to see his true meaning. And Kurapika was very nice to the people who he thought were his friends - perhaps even Leorio.  
  
Hisoka gave a small, brief but sad smile and looked around at everyone, then gave a defeated sigh.  
  
"I guess you're right then. I mean, it's only 2 weeks right? I can manage that, no problem!"  
  
"That's the spirit!" Shalnark was relieved that the previous ugly tensions had finally dissipated and they could all talk a bit more openly now. "So, who are you going to be babysitting?"  
  
"I don't know, but Silva said his name was Illumi and I'll have to pick him up at the studio tomorrow."  
  
Killua gave a yelp of pain and surprise and his arms agonizingly snapped back and the weights crashed back down when he accidentally and suddenly released the pressure in his arms after hearing the particular name. Tears stung his eyes, but he was more overcome by fear than the excruciating pain from the tearing of his biceps. What on earth was going on?  
  
  
  
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Whew! Authors notes: It's been an entire week and a half since the post and update - but I've also worked on 'Untitled' for a bit too. Almost time for an update on that as well!  
  
I'm glad I had the chance to finish this chapter. I think I've pretty much got the story and plot firmly in mind now. The only problem is to tackle it and make it presentable to you readers! Please comment and review of course, and if you want to flame, go for it!  
  
You might have also noticed that the story moves slowly ne? Well, I want to take my time and not rush anything so I hope you peoples aren't finding this boring either.  
  
Okie! Onto work on the next chappie! 


	4. Chapter 4 Two weeks with the New Guy: P

I'm sorry this has been such a late post..gosh.I'm so tired. Couldn't concentrate on work today *sigh* gotta do it tomorrow then.  
  
I personally had a lot of fun doing this chapter. I think there'll be more to come as well ( So keep reading, and I'll pump out Chapter 5 VERY soon - promise. And of course, please review!  
  
  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Showing the New Kid around - Part I *This* is the new kid? Oh gees!  
  
  
  
Kuroro von Drosgen's parents had once been the most famous actors of their era, dominating the big screens around the world as the perfect, most glamorous couple. She, the raven haired beauty with flawless alabaster skin and sensuous rose red lips and he, the finest specimen ever known to man with a body that would make Adonis jealous. Whether it be steamy love scenes on the golden sands of the beach or the heart breaking separation on a desolate, gray snowy day at a Russian train platform during the war, they captured the adulation and hearts of their viewers and critiques. When their first child, Kuroro, was born, everyone embraced high aspirations in the entertainment industry for him too. With a crop of thick, gleaming black hair and wide, large ebony eyes, he had already featured in many movies from the tender age of five, always as the bright, intelligent and sparkling child protégé that his parents had put him up to. He even participated in several Broadway productions, his most impressive work being the Jolly Roger in Oliver Twist - an animated and charmingly deceitful boy making his living as a pick pocket in the bleak times of the English Industrial Revolution.  
  
But in his own private room, bedroom door firmly bolted, he was a quiet boy, a lonely lass who brooded and detested every moment of this glamorous life. All the bright stages, the spotlights, the cooing crowds, the flashy clothes, the sparkling jewelry - they bought no comfort, no warmth. In fact, he had always been a quietly intelligent boy who would rather remain silent and listen and observe the many conversations around him rather than be the center of attention.  
  
But the society his parents had introduced him into by the time he could comprehend life was an artificially repulsive one, dominated by fake smiles, obligatory formalities and ridiculous conventions. He had to meet the right people, say the correct things and confine himself to certain behaviours in public. It was a rigid and uninteresting life, one that he certainly didn't want when he had enough brains to decide for himself. So why was he still in the acting industry? Why was he still listening to the cohorts of his parents?  
  
The answer was simple - they ruthlessly exploited his weak spot, heckled it without mercy. As the eldest child, Kuroro had always had a sense of family and duty, and didn't his cunning parents exploit that. Whenever he had a contrary idea or thought to them, they pulled out the ever used and ever still usable guilt trip which subdued their eldest child and brought him to their heels. Over the past twenty six years of his life, they had chosen the correct films and scripts for him to mould him into the same man that his father had been in his prime.  
  
THAT was until Kuroro met Aoishi and Legato prowling the city streets at night, two men who still hadn't shed their adolescent recklessness and did what they want, ate when they felt like it. It was when Kuroro was doing research on what it was really like to be in a rave nightclub and how people acted for his latest, supposedly image breaking movie when his mere presence alone almost stopped the crowd.  
  
"What's a straight jacket like you doing in here?" Legato said. He was obviously drunk and his mind was so far out of this universe but he had no intention of pulling it back. He violently shook a can of beer in one hand, then with a mischievous grin aimed and released the contents at his clubbing partner - the ever still immature Aoishi. The Meijin Dynasty actor nimbly dodged and disappeared into the press of bodies - half of them naked from the top. The constant thumping of the bass and loud music almost drowned out Legato's words and he strained hard to concentrate on the conversation.  
  
"Research." He responded quietly. Legato's eyes narrowed and he lost complete trace of his friend, so with a shrug, he gave up and turned his attention to Mr. Perfect.  
  
"You mean fun to you has to be researched? Man, you gotta get out a bit more."  
  
"As a matter of fact, I do." Kuroro suddenly felt indignant. He resisted the urge to glare at the young upstart.  
  
"Hey, no offence! But seriously, I don't call attending those prom parties and balls of yours very entertaining. Half the women there are like dead fish in bed and what kind of music do they listen to again? That's right! Classical music! Come on man! I can make farting noises that sound better!"  
  
Kuroro chose to remain silent at that comment. The loud racket of shouts and modern pop music continued to ravage his ears. It was becoming unbearable to tolerate.  
  
Legato regarded Kuroro's solemn stance and he giggled. "Oops, must have said what everyone's been saying."  
  
"Everyone?" one eyebrow raised in suspicion.  
  
Legato gave a mock sigh and shook his head. He laid a comforting arm around Kuroro's shoulder, but the latter wanted to shrink away from the heavy, whiff of alcohol. "I guess I should spare you and rescue you from the dark? Is that the right phrase? Whatever. Anyway," he breathed out again and Kuroro decided to stop breathing for the duration of the conversation "what everyone's been anticipating is your final break away from your dominating parents."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with fulfilling your filial duty. Perhaps if you listened to your parents more, you wouldn't be messing up your mind with whatever crap you're taking." He remembered himself responding coldly and that it easily cut through the unceasing din and reached Legato's ears with absolute ease.  
  
But gold eyed man ignored him and swayed a bit, leaning on him for balance. "Lets face it Mr. Square, nobody likes you because you go around with that stuck up, snobbish attitude of yours. If you are really looking for a challenge, I suggest you find this man and get yourself a part in his business."  
  
And Legato Bluesummers took off with a lurch and stumbled into the crowd. He left a crinkled, dirty and smelly piece of paper in his hand, but on it was clearly written "Silva Zoldick - Hunter Works, accepting auditions."  
  
So the next day, bright and early, he went to the Hunter Works studio, recently built and opened, and acquired a copy of the script. He sat in Reception's thickly cushioned chairs for the next four hours, his large dark eyes hungrily devouring each word of the wondrous story and he felt a spiteful smile pulling at his lips. Of all the parts still vacant, he had his eyes on one in particular - to play the leader of the mass murdering gang of thieves - the Genei Ryodan! Farewell my good-boy image, the honourable hero or the honest cop, welcome, the leader of the most notorious syndicate of criminals!  
  
The fact that he won the position and successfully carried out his shoots without interference or interruption was always a mood lifting thought. His parents had no idea, and they would probably faint when the series was finally broadcasted around the nation - and even around the world, given the Director's mighty ambitions. He even felt well enough to return home. How long had it been? Seven months since he moved out and acquired his own single bedroom flat in Suburbia near the city and finally felt truly marvelous at the final breaking of his restraints. Megumi and Darien were at home to look after his parents, and he WAS twenty six - time to finally become independent. His departure from home made the small news, as did his participation in the production of Hunter x Hunter, but he didn't mind. The articles expressed curiosity rather than criticism at his behaviour, and he prided in the fact that he was the first to bring the small bit of gossip and publicity to Hunter x Hunter.  
  
And his thoughts about Hunter x Hunter so far? He loved every minute of it - the different types of people he met, the unique scenes and settings, the expressly forbidden use of stunt doubles in fight scenes, and how everyone became another family to him. The numerous bloopers suffered on the shooting gave everyone a fun, relaxed time, especially when the giggles were so contagious that you'd of thought that laughing gas was being leaked into the room. And although gym nights were humiliating and painful, it bought out everyone's genuine side and they all went off happily to dinner and wherever the party took them afterwards. Life was good.  
  
He finally arrived at the white picket fence outside his 'old' home, and his perfect black Labrador stuck his wet nose on his outstretched hand and gave his face a thorough welcome home lather. He looked at his watch and noted the time - it was still early, only eleven thirty. After dinner, they settled for a few beers and further gossip and jokes to cheer up Hisoka. Others gave contributions as to what he could do with Illumi in the next two weeks - a lot of these suggest however, unfortunately revolved around the Barney circus currently taking up the local park with its enormous purple tent.  
  
He fumbled for his keys and found the correct one. Inserting it into the lock, giving it a sharp twist and one swift push, and he was in the neat and prim house. It made him sick.  
  
"Darien? Is that you? I told you to stay in your room for a few days!" his father's voice floated down the dim entrance hall. He guess he shouldn't smile at his little brother's unfortunate predicament, but wasn't that exactly the reason why Paku and the others had been able to persuade him to go home and confront? He cleared his throat feeling an unfamiliar, unknown confidence he'd never felt before swell up in his heart. And it made him feel good.  
  
"No dad, it's me, Kuro."  
  
He remembered that his dad had a glass of red wine each night in the kitchen around this hour, and so knew exactly where to find him.  
  
The kitchen was brightly lit, revealing your conventional, neat and dainty cooking area, complete with a small round table and matching chairs in one corner where his father sat. His back was still as straight as an arrow, and even though he had a few grew hairs on the side of his head, he carried them with dignity. However, he noticed the few extra wrinkles recently developed at the corners of his eyes. That must have been due to the worry caused by Darien's little neked run down town.  
  
"You know it's your fault Kuroro. If you'd been home to look after your little brother, he wouldn't have shamed himself the way he did."  
  
He fought off the fending anger and he bit the bitter and hateful words back. He could do better than that. Instead, he gave an easy, lofty smile.  
  
"I don't know how you can even blame me for that dad," he said with ever tender patience "he's adult now, and he wouldn't take it too kindly if I told him who he should be going out with and who he shouldn't be going out with. In fact, I dare say that he might even try to punch me if I interfered with his social life."  
  
Dad grunted. "You're full of excuses these days, ever since you hooked up with those lowly, B grade actors. You could have taken the main role in Westside Story and broadened your acting skills, but instead, you opt to take up a minor role in...who are you working for again?"  
  
"His name's Silva Zoldick. But that's not the reason why I'm here tonight." He was surprised at how calm and relaxed he felt right now even though hi dad treated him like a dog. "I never intended this to be a friendly visit, but since we're still family, I thought I'd help you clarify the few things in your precious life that can actually make you frown and give you wrinkles."  
  
His dad cocked an eyebrow and took the cap off the crystal decanter to pour himself another blood red glass of wine.  
  
Kuroro stepped forward with Hanzo's newly refurbished compendium titled - "The Real TRUTH behind Darien von Drosgen on the Night he was Caught by Police for Streaking" in big, gold embossed letters on the leather cover. At first, the bald ninja harboured many frustrations as to whether he would be able to capitalize all the words in the title. But when it wouldn't fit on the one page, he was forced to cut down and choose one word to highlight, and it was going to be 'streaking' at first, but then Phinx suggested that it would be more catchy if 'truth' was capitalized instead - truth always got people fascinated - especially when they had thought they had already heard it all. In response, a wicked grin surfaced and Hanzo became eternally grateful to Phinx. It was a very limited and exclusive copy, with only fifty printed so far, but ever since someone 'accidentally' slipped a copy to the local paparazzi, other journalists began spreading their informants around the city, to the local pubs, stores, hair salons, cafes and clothes store, hoping to find the source of this earth shattering news. They quietly slipped the rumor that they were willing to pay five thousand a piece for whoever could present them with a copy. It was very easy pocket money indeed, and being a ninja and all, Hanzo could be VERY inconspicuous when he wanted to. Thus in the space of two hours of the circulation of the latest Compendium, another two hundred copies were on order. He took the book and placed it on the kitchen bench. If his dad wanted to read it, he could, if not, he would send him a bill for the book. It was, after all, an exclusive copy.  
  
"Good night father." He said simply, then with the new airs of an independent and *real* human being, he strolled down the hall and back out into the front yard, gently closing the door behind him again. The good thing was, he didn't feel an ounce of guilt. He knew for once that what he was doing was right.  
  
=============  
  
Thursday, 9:00 am  
  
Hisoka had a good night's sleep for once. He went back to his rented apartment at a time he considered to be early, but after the extra exertions he spent at the gym, his muscles began to complain in a small voice and since he vowed to stay away from his usual social groups for the next fortnight, tiredness turned into sleep, and the hours easily rolled past him.  
  
The alarm clock woke up him at the decent time of seven thirty - when the sun wasn't too low in the sky to be called morning, and it wasn't too high up either to be called late morning and make him feel guilty for sleeping in. Carefully tiptoeing around the messes in his room, the dirty, unwashed plates and cutlery scattered on the tattered carpeted floor, half read magazines with torn pages carelessly stacked in one corner, one of the many stacks had tumbled and spilled over.  
  
He stumbled into the bathroom and picked out a relatively clean towel and plunged into a freezing and refreshingly cold shower.  
  
"Brrr." he shivered as he stepped back out and wrapped his towel tightly around his body, looking around for any clean clothes. He approached his closet and instantly rummaged through from left to right. Suits weren't appropriate today, his usual sports T-shirts.....he sniffed twice and almost retched. They needed a desperate wash, and so did half the other clothes also shriveled up like dead corpses on the dirty ground. Where was the wash basket under the mountains of dirt and grime?  
  
At last, he found a pair of pants that were wearable for summer, a pale khaki coloured pants which reached just above his ankles. He supposed that it was fashionable, since it was given free with the last modeling job that he did, and a slightly fitted dark red t-shirt that actually smelt good and didn't have a wrinkle in it.  
  
He admired his gauntly handsome and pale face in the mirror. He breathed onto it and gave the mirror a quick wipe down first before he could properly study his image. Picking up a comb, the brushed his hair back and applied only the merest layer of gel for some style.  
  
"Acceptable Hisoka, acceptable indeed." He muttered and quickly picked up his keys, deftly slipped into a comfortable pair of runners and wondered how he could best enjoy his two week suspension with a kid tagging along. Taking a deep breath, he opened the front door and stepped out into the morning sun. Time to start the day.  
  
==============  
  
"Good morning!" he cheered at the receptionist and without waiting for an answer made straight for the lift. According to the original time table, Killua and Gon would be doing their little lesson with Wing and Zuuchi. That would be in a small room setting on level two. Later, there would be another retake of yesterday's interrupted scene as well. So, best to wait in the dressing room to see what everyone was up to. Silva may have suspended him for two weeks, but suspension did not mean his physical expulsion from the building in the next fortnight.  
  
He looked about him with small interest, noting that Wing had again forgotten his lines. Ahhh...to explain nen was complex indeed.  
  
"Tongue got twisted. Can we do that again?"  
  
Several of the crewmen chuckled and everyone continued with the serious work.  
  
Hisoka silently entered the change rooms without attracting any unnecessary attention to himself and noted that Hanzo was busy scribbling on bits of paper to the point that sweat gleamed on his bald head. Hisoka regarded it with a certain amount of awe as he could almost see his own reflection.  
  
"Hey Hanzo, shouldn't you be practicing your one finger hand stand? We're going to be taking those acts soon."  
  
"Not today Hisoka, I'm making money right now! A truckload in fact!"  
  
"Oh?" the magician quietly glanced over Hanzo's shoulder at what he was doing.  
  
"You know that baby I was distributing two days ago?"  
  
"Uh huh" Hisoka also had a copy of the scrapbook which had gone around the city two days ago.  
  
"Well, I upgraded it by slipping in a few truths and never before seen material just to fall short of it all be defamatory! Guess how much my next shipment's going to make me! Two hundred copies for five thousand each..that works out to One Million! But of course, there are deductions from the publication to be made - see the exquisite gold lettering on the cover, or the fine quality of the leather which it is on. And the newspaper clippings are in full colour with the squares over certain parts of the anatomy removed!" he exclaimed joyously.  
  
"How did you manage to edit the pictures?" Hisoka picked up Hanzo's own Compendium of Truth about Darien's Night of Streaking and felt his eyebrows go up as he turned each page. The material that Hanzo collected was most impressive. It seems that he has literally bought out all the pictures that each and every journo from every publication snapped on the night and arranged it into a nice little photo album, chronologically, and then placed a ten thousand word thesis on Darien Von Drosgen's past and what led to the little escapade on Monday night.  
  
"If I'm not wrong, I'd say that this was the work of....Shalnark! You're in cohorts together aren't you! Aiding and abetting to bring down Mr. Top Hat Wearing, Tuxedo Prancing, Rose Throwing, Mask Wearing little Casanova!"  
  
The ninja beamed his biggest and most triumphant smile at Hisoka.  
  
"And the real beauty is that with my skills of avoidance, disguise and ability to outrun almost anyone in the city, a few exceptions of course," he added the last bit hastily stealing a quick glance to see if Hisoka was offended or not "I'm not going to be caught!"  
  
Hisoka and Hanzo both shared a solemn, knowing look.  
  
"Code Duello." They muttered softly like a prayer on their lips, a saviour of their dignity and self respect, the passionate holy angel of fury to descend from the fiery heavens to strike down those who would so callously tread on the self esteem of others for their own arrogant elation. O, to strike back and to savour the bitter sweet taste of vengeance! How some men would gladly commit their lives to such a worthy and noble endeavour!  
  
Did they fail to mention how long Darien had been on top of that list for? How long they had been waiting for the chance to finally scratch his name off the list as yet another sacrificial lamb for the long standing Code?  
  
Their satisfied sigh was interrupted by the soft footsteps that entered the dressing room. Had it not been the unfamiliar smell perfume in the air, Hanzo and the magician would not have bothered to look. But because they sensed a new and unfamiliar presence, they turned their heads and suffered various different reactions.  
  
Hanzo's eyes went large and he immediately began to fluster. The temperature in the room suddenly rose like hell fire and his skin started tingling and his hands felt wet and clammy. His tongue turned into lead and his throat shut down and refused to allow him to even stutter a 'Good morning'. ~Damnit Hanzo! Why do you always freeze up when you see an attractive woman?~ he berated to himself, the frustrated shouts and curses resounding loudly in his mind.  
  
Hisoka's first reaction was to gravitate towards the newcomer who he had never seen before. She was the most exquisite and lovely creature that he had ever beheld, her flowing black mane, her large coal black eyes, her pale alabaster skin, her small nose and slightly puckered mouth. He drew in a deep breath. She might as well have "Eat me!" tattooed to her forehead. A charming and predatory smile began to surface and without hesitation (unlike a certain rock golem glued to his chair) he introduced himself.  
  
His eyes never left hers for a single moment as he emblazoned her every detail in his mind. The silken blue shirt loosely hanging over a pair of black shorts, both items revealing fragile and slender arms and legs, so fine with its blemishless skin as silky as satin. Or her infinite grace, every gesture a smooth fluid moment that flowed from one action to another seamlessly. It didn't' help that the few buttons undone at the top of her shirt tempted him with her long neck and lavishing collar bone.  
  
Hormones took over common sense and it prompted him to think: To hell with the introductions. Just grab and kiss her!  
  
So Hisoka dutifully (and rather gladly) obeyed his testosterone driven mind and his arms shout out like arrows to capture his trophy and taste those strawberry pink lips which were just begging to be plucked.  
  
  
  
Wing was successfully into his long speech and had hopes of actually doing it in one go this time when he was devastatingly interrupted by a shriek from the dressing rooms.  
  
April's first reaction was to grimace and wonder what all the fuss was about. It had been going all perfectly but the sudden shout had disturbed the tender moment that Wing was having here. If the other actors were playing silly games in the dressing room, the Director was sure going to be displeased. That being a total, major and massive understatement of course. He was the first to leap out of his seat and angrily stalk off towards the offending noises which were increasing in volume from the smaller side room, a look of unholy anger clearly exuding from his heavy breathing. Ah, pity those who are so unfortunate to cross his path. Rather make a pact with the devil than cross the Director.  
  
Gon and Killua were naturally curious. Their parts were boring today - just standing or sitting around looking eagerly attentive. Now they brashly dashed off behind the director to see what the commotion was all about. She caught Toby glancing at her with wistful puppy dog eyes and she frowned.  
  
"All right! Go if you must! Gees, doesn't anyone value their jobs and professionalism these days?" she mumbled and found a chair lying around to sit and take a small break whilst another little storm blew itself out. But when the resounding sound of a stinging slap echoed around the small studio, her curiosity perked, and making sure no one was looking, she inconspicuously moved slowly over to the dressing room too. Gossip was one thing, scandals however was all together a very different matter and you were entirely forgiven to have been curious.  
  
  
  
Illumi's face had reddened beyond red from the anger and humiliation. The wierdo who had latched onto him the moment he entered the dressing room was impressively strong, but he didn't applaud him for that. Rather, when he managed to work one arm free, he put all his strength behind it and bought his hand down across the red haired man's face.  
  
Hisoka was drowned in a sea of blissful sweetness, a refreshingly honeyed taste from those soft and inviting lips. He wanted to delve further to see what other delights he would find in the warm, wet cavern when he was thoroughly stunned by a slap across his cheek.  
  
"You freaking pervert! Let go!" Illumi shrieked with indignity and viciously struggled against the arms encircled around him. To his rising horror, the arms began to grip tighter, but that was till -  
  
Silva's ungodly angry face came in between them and in one ferocious tug pulled the pair apart. Illumi began panting for air and the usual side- effects of an overdose of shock of fear but he managed to put up a defensive stance of sorts. Fortunately for Hisoka, he finally awoke from his little dreamland and looked innocently at Silva.  
  
"You fool!" Silva hissed and gave the magician another shake with both hands. "What in *gods name* do you *think* you were doing? Or perhaps you're not thinking at all?!"  
  
"Just having a bit of fun." Hisoka mumbled so quietly that even Silva barely heard. The Director suppressed his infamous murderous scowl and forced himself not to rip Hisoka's insolent head off with his bare hands. Instead, he ran through a series of breathing patterns to calm himself and cleared his throat to indicate change of topic.  
  
"Hisoka, meet Illumi. He's the person I told you to show around town."  
  
There was a long pause dominated by Hisoka blinking rapidly and then some more.  
  
"He?" the magician finally managed to squawk.  
  
Silva uncharacteristically nodded with endearing patience.  
  
"He?" Hisoka repeated again.  
  
"Please stop gaping like a fish Hisoka. It's very unattractive." The Director said.  
  
"HE?" Hisoka's said for the third time and denial shone through like a burning sun. "It can't be." His hands experimentally wandered up to feel the (very) disappointingly flat chest on Illumi. He frowned and felt some more just to be sure.  
  
"Are you done groping me yet?!" Illumi indignantly said through clenched teeth and bought one foot done hard on Hisoka's. The magician yelped in part pain and surprise but it was tears of utter, utter disappointment that welled up in his narrow eyes.  
  
"It can't be!" he sniffed and looked pleadingly to Silva to tell him otherwise. But the Director was never known to show comfort or condolence to people, nor was he going to start now. But this was considerably the most ridiculous situation he'd found him self in, ever.  
  
Hisoka and Illumi were both on the verge of crying. The magician still had extreme difficulties in accepting the facts laid bare before him, or perhaps he couldn't overcome the sense of tragedy and loss that one so beautiful as Illumi was anything but a woman. Illumi on the other hand, having been thoroughly scandalized in front of so many people he didn't know was equally angry and humiliated and at a loss as to what he could do but break down into sobs.  
  
"I'm not going to go around the city with *him*." He said at last and determinedly looked away.  
  
Hisoka's look of desolate dejection rapidly became one of anger. "You think I want to go out with you too? Can't you see how unfair it is from *my* perspective? You ARE NOT A WOMAN! Oh! The shame and waste! The tragedy!" he moaned dramatically, burying his face in his hands. "You can't just tempt me like this and then turn around and say you are a man! This is not fair, this is not fair, this is not fair." his voice trailed off with lackluster spirit and he merely starred hollowly at the floor.  
  
But his words only offended Illumi further who currently had thoughts about seriously hurting Hisoka's more vulnerable body parts. "It's your stupid fault in the first place! I've never known anyone who'd go straight up to a stranger and then just start...start slobbering all over them!" he finished off severely with heavily flushed cheeks. "If you'd behaved more like a gentlemen or just a man with some decency in him...Gods, I've never been so outraged and humiliated!"  
  
From the rather crowded doorway, amidst the grinning and snickering faces, Toby mumbled something to April. "They sound like my parents fighting."  
  
"SILENCE!" Silva thundered. The mere raising of his voice alone created a gust of icy cold wind which blew around them all, causing the tiny hairs on the back of their necks to dance wildly in terror. Illumi and Hisoka, subject to the full wrath of the fearsome Director of Hunter Works, naturally leaned and huddled towards each other with lips firmly pressed shut and their trembling hands tightly held onto each other's for comfort and support in their direst, blackest hour. Bickerings aside, it was time to be serious when Death with billowing white hair was glaring you down just two feet away, harbouring the intent to devour you if you did not comply with His wishes. "You two sound worse than Killua and Alluka fighting over the latest Pokemon collector cards! Get out of the building this INSTANT, and you Hisoka!" he diverted his full and magnificently intimidating attention to the magician who was trying to put on a brave face under his trembling skin. "Take Illumi around the city and let him meet all the right people! Is that understood?"  
  
The mismatched pair bolted before replying, although Illumi may have let out a distressed cry, and they headed straight for the nearest exist, nearly running over some people if need be.  
  
From the crowded doorway, now hurriedly dissipating yet still buzzing furiously with gossip and suppressed laughter, Killua noticed Gon giving him yet another strange look, someone akin to the one Gon gave him in the café on level two yesterday.  
  
"You're looking at me differently again Gon. Is something wrong?"  
  
"It's just that....Killua...you collect Pokemon cards?"  
  
Killua declined to comment.  
  
=============  
  
11:00am At the cheery restaurant  
  
Hisoka found that Illumi was by nature a relatively shy and quiet person and also very agreeable when he wasn't angry. And he was certainly a forgiving person as well.  
  
"You can stop apologizing now." He was now embarrassed by Hisoka's sincerity. They sat opposite each other in an overly bright and genki restaurant which was mostly dominated by young couples and groups of chattering and giggling girls. The white plastic chairs with the cushioned seat were a nice touch, and under the shade of a large umbrella on a summer's morning allowed him to remain outside, yet barely affected by the rising heat. "And I'm sorry I yelled at you the way I did too. I guess I shouldn't have lost my temper."  
  
"Do you get mistaken for being....well, you know?"  
  
Illumi sighed pathetically with eyes downcast. "Yeah, almost everyday. But I guess it's - " he abruptly broke off and stared hard at Hisoka as if he had just been asked a highly sensitive and taboo question. Illumi's sudden change in mood stunned the clown, so he sat patiently and anxiously waited to see if the young lass opposite him would explain what was wrong.  
  
Oh, something was wrong all right. Illumi bit his tongue back and swallowed the words just in time before he let slip his darkest and deepest secrets to a man he had barely met for three hours. His whole image, personality and presentation had become an art which he had finely crafted for almost two decades and he wasn't about to let slip this wondrous and awful façade to a nobody. Granted, it had been a while since he sat with someone of literally no or barely any significant importance so conversation flowed freely, perhaps just a bit too freely that he had almost dropped his guard.  
  
And somehow, he felt himself liking this relaxed attitude very much. Here, they sat at the table as equals, neither a superior being to the other. There were no cards and trumps to be played or dealings to be made underneath the table. Neither was trying to gain some leverage or power over the other with hidden, dark secrets or information, and he could laugh when something was funny or glare and become threatening if Hisoka tread on some delicate matters.  
  
  
  
Was he feeling happy? Was his heart light and smiling, laughing at this sudden remarkable, yet subtly simple setting?  
  
He smiled brightly at Hisoka for no particular reason and let the entire subject drop. Thankfully, Hisoka also dropped his guard (though very warily and cautiously) and the waitress in short black skirt and frilly white apron came over to take their orders. Illumi carefully averted his eyes from her generous cleavage and bulging chest, but his chaperone reacted otherwise.  
  
"I'd like a short black and two plates of that layered sponge cake you had the other day, you know, the one with the fruit salad cream?" Hisoka gave the waitress a smile which harboured cruel intentions.  
  
The waitress with the short black skirt was totally oblivious however. Maybe she had become desensitized to these sorts of looks.  
  
"Yep!" she scribbled furiously on her white paper pad settled firmly on the palm of her hand. "And what about you ma'am?"  
  
Illumi brilliantly ignored her mistake and studied his menu of drinks. "I'll take the iced chocolate please."  
  
When the waitress walked away with Hisoka glancing very appreciatively at her swinging hips, he reluctantly turned his attention back to Illumi.  
  
"Hot chocolate? That's what twelve year olds drink. Why haven't you moved onto coffee yet?"  
  
Illumi stuck out his tongue at him. "So what if I like hot chocolate? I just don't understand how you can drink down that bitter guck!"  
  
Hisoka reeled back slightly. "Bitter guck? That's the first I've heard coffee described that way. How about your little self, still stuck with a sweet tooth?" he said equally jokingly.  
  
The friendly banter continued until the pieces of dessert arrived on fancy plates bordered with cute pink flowers and its center marked with bright yellow spots. Two large, generous pieces of sponge cake lay invitingly with the fork neatly placed beside them. Illumi swallowed as he watched Hisoka separated a small piece and popped it into his mouth.  
  
The thick layers of cream made Illumi uneasy. It instantly made connections and parallels to his grossly overweight brother Milluki in his mind and he vigorously vowed never to become that size, ever. So whilst the magician opposite him slowly chewed on the desert, he sipped slowly on his iced chocolate and his mind began its slow, tedious debate. Part of him wished that he could taste the wonderful cake suggestively laid out before him whilst the other part of him was damning him to the eternal infernos of gym and long, long runs if he so much as picked up the fork.  
  
Hisoka resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but ever since the sponge cake arrived, Illumi had done nothing but freeze up and tightly sip up his iced chocolate through the straw being flattened by his grinding teeth. He definitely looked attracted to the food, yet he gave off the impression that he was mighty uneasy and hesitant. And did he just catch a glimpse of fear in those remarkably large, black eyes?  
  
"It's low fat cream. I can assure you it won't ruin your figure." He nonchalantly said after a frustrated while. Illumi physically balked, like he had been awakened from a chance and stared numbly at Hisoka. The magician sighed and cut a small piece of the delicacy from his plate and conveyed it directly into Illumi's mouth with his fork.  
  
Illumi had been about to respond and object to Hisoka's statement about his figure when the magician surprised him by pushing a piece of cake into his mouth. He blushed, slowly chewed on it and frankly found the taste delightful and pleasant. It invariably bought a small happy smile to his lips which Hisoka reckoned was the most endearing and precious thing he'd even seen.  
  
And that also bought a smile to his lips. He patiently waited for Illumi to swallow, then fed him another piece of cake. Strangely, Hisoka felt himself deriving a pleasure from doing this.  
  
Unbeknownst to the pair, the synonymous sound of a camera was rapidly clicking away in an inconspicuous corner of the restaurant.  
  
===========  
  
Paku chatted quietly at the foyer of Toguro Brother's Gym with Shizuku. She was already changed and dressed in her sports clothes and she hated and despised every moment of it. Oh, she loved her lycra gear all right - the way the soft black material hugged at her shapely thighs, how it accommodated her every curve and how fashionable it was becoming lately with the other star actors. It's just that the thought of Thursday Gym Night was a very painful and depressing matter, one which was hard to quell or dismiss. Unlike Tuesday s and Wednesday s, where she would take the relaxing, yet challenging, Pilate's classes with Toguro Ani (and she had never seen a more flexible man in her life), Thursday s were the domain of Karen, the ultra fit aerobics and taibo instructor from Graude Foundation.  
  
Karen was technically from Graude Foundation's subsidiary - Elia. She received a decent role in B't X, but found sports and fitness more to her calling. On the set, she got to show off her impressive athletic skills, and she made sure no one had any other contrary ideas about her off the set either. So on Thursday nights, she took Toguro Ani's usual yoga class and transformed it into a rigorous, endurance test of every lady's fitness. She noted that a particularly detatched woman with short, straight straw blond hair which reached her chin and an impressive chest managed to grumble her way through every moment of it.  
  
Paku didn't bother hiding her disdain and contempt for these Thursday gym nights, and especially the health freak taking the course. The exercises bored her, the high kicks also made her muscles groan and the stretching afterwards was downright torture. Of course, she found the entire experience a total bore, and when Pakunoda was bored, she usually bitched about whoever just happened to piss her off. Even down in the foyer, she made her thoughts and opinions quiet clear to her more silent and observant co-star.  
  
"I don't understand how kicking, punching and doing star jumps for an hour straight is going to further my career. When it comes to toning the body, I was doing fine with Toguro Ani or the skywalker in the gym. I don't need any of this. It's only useless pain, pain that I can do without!"  
  
Shizuku blinked her large brown eyes behind her large framed glasses. "I guess Paku, but frankly, I don't think Toguro Ani's class gives me the sort of endurance training that Karen-san gives us. I definitely feel more energetic after her classes."  
  
"Oh Shizu," Paku rolled her eyes. "You think too good of everyone. Have you ever had one nasty thought enter your head? I swear that woman's just out to make us suffer. I bet she enjoys our tortured looks and expressions as well."  
  
"Try looking at the bright side since this is compulsory anyway. By doing Taibo, we're 80% guaranteed to be able to fight off sexual predators and protect ourselves."  
  
"What about the other 20% then?" Paku said sardonically.  
  
Shizuku tapped her finger lightly on her chin in thought, her eyes looking up and she hummed a bit. "I guess we could probably out run those attackers because we'll be fitter than them. Think about it, after four blocks, they would certainly be puffing for dear life and we'd be fine, probably do another ten blocks if we really wanted. So you see Paku, I think we all get some benefits out of this aferall."  
  
Pakunoda flicked her hair back in one dismissive gesture and grumbled some more. Some of the other male co-actors were now arriving and they were almost shouting at each other, each vying for the other's attention.  
  
"I wonder what the hot topic for today is." Shizuku said, pushing up her glasses so they sat more firmly. She glanced at Paku beside her, whose eyes were narrowed with curiosity and very much resembled an alley cat on the prowl.  
  
"HE KISSED A MAN?!" Ubo roared out in good humored laughter, the vibrations from his laugh could be felt by the actors around him. He playfully placed his massive hand on Gon's spiky and unruly hair. Gon glared at the huge man.  
  
"Can you say it any louder?" he half snarled half hissed, but more people around him laughed. Even Killua wasn't holding back. "Are you sure we should be discussing this in the open, I mean, won't it be bad for Hunter's reputation?" he pleaded again in Killua's direction. Hisoka was, after all, one of his few friends that he could talk to on some matters. It didn't do well that everyone was discussing him with the same vindictive enthusiasm as they did with Darien.  
  
Kuroro didn't bother hiding his huge grin, which was rare. A smile on Dancho's lips was as common as a spotted mouse who could memorize the first hundred and four decimals in pie. "Tell us how Hisoka reacted again Wing. More detail please."  
  
"He had tears in his eyes, seriously." Wing too, had a fiercely wicked grin too. Although he presented himself as a somewhat neat, unthreatening and fragile man, he was in fact capable of many psychologically destructive acts. Preying on the humor and inflaming gossip just happened to be one of his specialties. "He said: It can't be true! Over and over again, then wailed some more."  
  
"You mean all this, and in front of the Director?" Bashou asked.  
  
"Yup! And Dad was *this* close to ripping Hisoka's heart out. It was so funny!" Killua squealed with delight. He held out a minimal distance between his thumb and forefinger for Bashou to see and the older man also burst out laughing.  
  
"Oh, there's Paku and Shizu waiting already." Hanzo piped up. "Heya! We have a very humorous tale to tell. For the right price, I can give you a smile for the rest of the night, even if you have to do Taibo for the next two hours."  
  
"I'll spare you my fist in your shiny bald head. Is that price enough?" Paku asked coolly.  
  
Hanzo easily ignored the physical threat for his mood was too elated, even though the event occurred early in the morning. "It was only a figure of speech Paku. I would love to see you actually look amiable for once on Thursday Gym Nights! Menchi's parking her car, but she's got the whole story. Ask her when she arrives ok."  
  
But a silence rapidly fell on the rowdy group as the people central to the gossip finally arrived. Illumi's eyes perked up with curiosity behind Hisoka when the latter casually greeted all the people. And everyone else saw a large pair of shy and inquisitive eyes slowly peek up from behind Hisoka's shoulder to blink and quietly study them.  
  
"Ok guys, this is Illumi, the one I'm supposed to be looking after for the next two weeks. Say your hellos and lets get through another gym night ok? In the meantime, let me find..Ah! Toguro! Just who I was looking for!"  
  
The tan, tall, muscular and confident man had just left his office after a day of dealing with mind numbing paper work and was about to go out to dinner when one of his clients called him by name. Only very few people did that - either those who held little or no disregard for their health, or those who were his good friends, and they were few. Sometimes, he wondered which category Hisoka fell into.  
  
"Toguro, could you please set up a little program for Illumi here?"  
  
Close up, Toguro was not only impressive, but also carried about him an intimidating aura which could almost frighten off most street thugs and hooligans by his mere presence alone. Up close and personal, you either trembled beneath his gaze (and almighty biceps and pecs) or you foolishly defied him, much to the objection of your health.  
  
Illumi was naturally wary of the big man, and his slight step backwards could be described as 'cowering behind Hisoka'. Toguro on the other hand only glanced over him turned his attention back to Hisoka.  
  
"I recommend that Illumi-dono go with the other ladies to Karen's Taibo and Aerobics session tonight. Perhaps she could fix something up afterwards. I mean, we do have very strict separation rules here, as you all well know."  
  
Separation rules as in rigorously separating the men and the women to create a more friendly gym environment where women or men could go about training and not be harassed by the opposite sex. Other women also felt more comfortable when their instructors were women too.  
  
'Not again,' Hisoka thought dully. 'How many times do I have to go through this routine? This is the.what? Sixth time today that I've had to explain: no, he's staying with me?' The magician gave a small sigh.  
  
Everyone else tried to suppress giggles.  
  
Illumi tried very hard not to look hurt.  
  
"It's ok Hisoka. I'll see what Karen-san can do for me."  
  
Hisoka whirled around, his face furious. "It's not that you little baka!" he couldn't help hissing and pouring his frustrations on poor Illumi whose little pout and meek gesture of defence only infuriated him even more. "If they found out *what* you are in that Taibo room, they'll rip you to shreds! There are some women in there who don't like men to see them in their tight and fitted clothes, and this causes quite violent reactions sometimes, do you understand?!"  
  
Miraculously, Illumi was able suppress his emotions and he gave a cold nod after staring long and hard into Hisoka's harsh eyes. Almost monotonously, he replied: "I like the step machine and treadmill. I'll just work on those tonight. It's obvious that Toguro-san has places to go to, right?"  
  
The co-owner of the Gym sheepishly nodded his head and some gave appreciative 'ahs'. He obviously had a date with Genkai tonight. Hisoka finally caught the drift.  
  
"Oh..I see.well, um.I'll just look after Illumi tonight, you have a good time ok?" He wearily turned around at the stoic faced Illumi and gave an apologetic sigh. "Lets go get changed. I'll turn one of those treadmills on for you."  
  
Only the first day of his suspension, and he was already loosing his grip on things, Hisoka thought depressingly. And it would probably just all end in tears - he just knew it. 


	5. Chapter 5 Two weeks with the New Guy: Pa

**Chapter 5******

**Showing the New Guy around – Part II.******

**Of stubbornness and an incident at the bar.**

  
Hisoka didn't know whether to scream and pull his hair out in frustration like a wild animal, or merely settle down for wilting like a daisy under the harsh glare of the summer sun. Illumi was difficult to handle. The boy made him weigh each and every word he said for he took everything to heart. Just then, when they were in the foyer discussing his gym fate, Illumi gave him yet another hurt look because he spoke just a little bit too angrily at him. And then he somehow rapidly retreated into some personal cocoon and shunned him with a stone cold and expressionless gaze for the rest of the evening, only speaking to him when necessarily. 

Maybe he wasn't apologizing hard enough.   


But the more Hisoka thought about it, the angrier he became. He had already said sorry, and he was treating Illumi _real_ nice. It wasn't everyday that the flamboyant actor could show some thought and consideration to the companions around him, let alone turn his head every two minutes to make sure that Illumi was doing all right on the equipment. He was doing fine! It was Illumi who had taken things too far. If he was going to give him the silent treatment, Hisoka thought with narrowed eyes that were burning with rage, then two can play the game. He deliberately moved away to a farther treadmill and resumed running, his gaze steadily fixed straight ahead. However, out of the corner of his eye, he noted disappointedly that Illumi was just as expressionless as he was and displayed not reaction to his move, so he just ignored him too. 

  
And it suddenly dawned on him. Illumi was acting like an annoyed girlfriend who was throwing a hissy fit at him. 

'I'll teach you to throw little tantrums at me!' Hisoka thought bitterly and increased his pace silently vowing to himself not to speak to Illumi again until the later had decided to act like a grown up for once.   
  


Gon warily cast sly glances in Hisoka and Illumi's direction every now and then. 

"Hey Killua" he whispered softly to the albino beside him who was groaning at his sit ups. "I think Hisoka's in a bad mood." 

"Huh? Umm….yeah?" Killua grunted some more, shakily drawing himself up. There were sharp pangs from his abdominals and his hands gingerly massaged on the sore aching muscles. 

"It's not our business anyway Gon." He sighed slightly, observing the unfolding scenario himself. "Remember? Dad said that Hisoka's the one who's gotta chaperone Illumi, so I guess he's the one responsible for anything that happens." 

"Anything that happens?" Gon echoed. 

"Oh, I don't really care." Killua slowly began to arch his back, hands and feet both firmly planted on the floor. "How will it effect us whether those two are fighting or not?" 

Gon giggled a bit. "They're acting like a fighting couple." 

The sharp ears of a certain Ryodan member heard Gon's comment and he edged closer to the main character. 

"I was thinking the same thing!" Nobu's wide grin stretched the entire expanse of his face. It looked like the smirk was going to remain there for some time. 

"By the way, do you guys have any idea who Illumi is? There's a small rumor that he's got a minor role in Hunter x Hunter, but Shal was doing an investigation on to his background a few hours ago." 

"You guys act pretty quickly don't you." Killua slyly glanced at Nobu, and Shalnark who was innocently working away on the rowing machine having heard the quiet conversation with his keen ears and having quickly turned away when Killua's gaze wandered over in his direction. "I applaud your efficiency." 

"We forced Shal to take a crack into the main network this afternoon after all the ruckus Hanzo caused during lunch break in the café. Some of us were less than impressed but we still got out act together to do some research. This industry thrives on information and gossip remember?" Nobu gave the boys a slight wink. 

Exhausted, Killua was content to sit on the rough blue carpet and coax some air to go into his lungs. He listened to every word Nobunaga had to say, but the topic of Illumi was, frankly, a dreaded thought indeed. Illumi and his family had been to their house for dinner only two nights ago, as 'friends' his father had casually put it. But the feared Director of Hunter Works was not known for his casual talk or demeanor, nor did the Zoldick family have friends who visited either. He worked hard to dismiss the event, as all young boy who are frightened and confused are wont to do, but the new piece of information that Nobu just revealed was alarming. And there was only one more thing which could startle him more. 

Nobunaga continued. "Shal broke into the network in no time. Illumi's file had only been registered minutes before our little covert operation. We discovered some pretty neat info on his personal file." He had to pause slightly to dodge Gon's annoyed punch. Kids were so impatient these days, always wanting to dive straight to the warm center, the yumminess and juiciest parts of the gossip without bearing with the introduction. Wasn't it Scott Fitzgerald who said that the road to obtaining one's goal was more important than arriving at the destination? 

"So," he breathed out, mindful to keep his voice down "we found out that he's graduate straight out of a pretty prestigious university. He's also got two other siblings and a rather famous and highly sought after mother." 

"Eww…gross Nobu! Leave your sick fantasies under your bed sheets, where they belong!" Gon clamped the palms of his hands firmly over his ears with an expression of outrage. His friend beside him turned a crimson red and his face was screwed up showing the faint signs and gestures of gagging. 

"No, no, no! It's nothing like that!" the samurai hotly responded with a sudden flare of indignation burning brightly in his eyes and frown so murderous with the deep set and shadowed wrinkles around his eyes that the two boys panicked and scrambled two feet away in an instant. 

"Come back here you brats! Or don't you want me to finish?!" he hissed. 

"It depends what it is that you are about to tell us. If it involves you naked and some parts of your anatomy, OR others' anatomy, I'd rather not listen." Killua sneered whilst Gon feigned spewing up beside him. 

Nobu knew he should be down right incensed and had every right to unleash his violent urges and rip the childrens' little heads off their skinny necks with his bare hands. But working at Hunter Works, you grew accustomed to these devastating insults, and the Director's son wasn't known as the unofficial Prince of Bratdom, the Boy with 'Kill Me' Tattoed To His Forehead, the Bearer of Insults, the Destroyer of Self Esteem and Ego for nothing. 

"His mother's name's Kikyou." Nobunaga finally continued when Gon and Killua trusted him enough to approach him again, but they were clearly wary. "You know! Kikyou – as in owner of Fantasia…." 

Wheels and clockworks began to tick away at Nobu's last prompt. Why was that name so familiar, Gon wondered, looking at the room of macho, fit and muscular men around him in the gym. Like a powerful flash of lightening, or the sudden flare of a torch in your face, it struck him that there were no women! And women raved about Fantasia. Aunt Mito had once gone to the newly opened branch here in the city with a few of her equally conniving and condescending people who qualified as friends and could do nothing but rant to him about it the next day in the studios. Gon didn't know whether it was a blessing or a curse. It did sidetrack her from making presumptuous assumptions about his co-actors, but at the same time, her constant swooning and dramatic sighs gradually grated on his nerves as the day went by. 

Fantasia was the ultimate fashion center hub in the city and every woman, short or tall, fat or slim, ugly or beautiful, wanted to be best friends with its owner in order to obtain discounts to the rather pricey items. Neon and Menchi bought their last ball dresses for a formal function two months ago from Fantasia, and it helped them dominate the front pages of fashion and gossip mags for an entire week! 

"So that's why they came over." Killua muttered aloud. Dad must have some sort of contract with Kikyou then – maybe she is going to take over their costume design? That might be a good idea – at least Hisoka would finally have something decent to wear. 

"What was that Killua?" 

"Huh?" Killua immediately broke out of his musings. "Nothing Gon, I was just remembering Machi groaning about not being able to afford the stuff at Fantasia, that's all." He lied, silently pleased with the deftness of his mind in conjuring up such tales to cover his tracks. Nobu sniffed a bit to express agreement and eagerly continued. 

"Shal however, was most excited by Illumi's younger brother – Milluki. Apparently, in the dot-com technology world, he is the closest thing there is to God." 

~_A fat pig like him? You've got to be joking!_~ Killua nodded vaguely in sync with Gon. But he remembered that Alluka had suffered a similar outburst which Shal might have experienced too. After dinner that night, Alluka couldn't stop blabbing about how great that pig was, how intelligent, how amazing, how wonderful. Yes………now that he thought about it, one expressed adulation to one's god in a coincidentally similar fashion too. 

"But here is the most interesting part! Illumi's got practically no experience whatsoever with acting! Nothing! He's not even been in a trashy daytime soapie before, or participated in Broadway or stage acting. His university records don't show that he's taken up drama classes back then either." 

"I worked my ass off to get this role though!" complained Gon who was instantly reminded of those hours on end sitting face to face with his hated Manager, learning and polishing his lines for the audition. His fingers automatically went to brush his illusory aching jaw muscles from having smiled too much, practicing wide grins, small curls of the lips until Mito was satisfied with which one of them to use in his role. 

"So did I kiddo, so did I. Now do you see why this is fascinating? We were all exclusively hand picked by the Director for our roles, each of us having at LEAST two years experience in the industry and with some pretty impressive credentials in our belts. Hell, Kuroro was Mr. Perfect like his creep of a brother before he joined us." 

"And gained redemption and acceptance back into normal society." Killua muttered again. 

"and now, some anonymous non-actor gets a part to play in Hunter x Hunter too." Gon finished off solemnly, Nobu's words having gotten him thinking. 

"Yeah, I was gonna let you two kids ponder on it for a while too. Let me know when you come up with something ok?" 

"Wait Nobu!" Killua held back the older man who had started to return to his bike. "Did the file mention exactly *what* part Illumi's going to play?" 

Nobu shook his head and shrugged. "No, it was just created, and some other administrative stuff hasn't been filled in yet. I guess we can only wait and see no?" 

Killua rolled his eyes at Gon and brooded for the rest of the night on the strange and puzzling enigma.   


* * *

"Kick!" pant pant "left straight" pant pant "elbow" pant pant. 

Grueling, grueling, tedious, tedious, painful, painful….and other similar words rang on incessantly in Paku's mind as her limbs acted independently of her brain. She had been looking forward to the story that Menchi was supposed to tell them, but because she had trouble finding a spot to park her car, she came in late and Paku had nothing to occupy her mind for the next two hours of Taibo. 

And how does Karen manage to make that high kick look so effortless? 

Two rows in front of the sulking Pakunoda was Machi, energetically following each of instructor Karen's steps. Ooh, Paku bit back a thought – that punch looked mighty impressive. It might just actually hurt someone. 

Her slanted eyes scanned the room some more, catching brief glimpses of her other co-workers. Ponzu was on the far right side of the room. The silly girl still had some difficulties telling the difference between left and right. But she sure was flexible though. 

Shizuku was behind her, but her heavy breathing was a sign that she was getting tired already. Only one hour in, another grueling, tedious, painful hour left. How was that delicate child going to last? 

A few other actors from other studios were also in attendance tonight – Lina Inverse was a regular, so was her other co-worker Amelia. Misao from Meijin Dynasty was also here, her lustrous long black hair tightly bound in a braid jerking awkwardly from her bodily movements. And after the Darien incident only three days ago, Meryl Strife was now a participant. Yes, she made to swing her elbow forward with a force clearly intended to knock a certain someone to the ground. Akane Tendo and Shampoo were also regulars along with Ranko (the girl who played Ranma). They dominated the front row with their perfect, lithe bodies easily flowing with the instructor's movements. 

But what was this? The techno dance music was gradually dimming and then it finally came to a discordant end. Karen stood up from turning off the stereo with a slightly flushed face. She whipped her long brown braid behind her and turned around to face her students to announce that class was finished for the night. 

"Ok ladies, we'll end it here tonight. Just ten minutes of stretches to cool down and it's off to the showers for us. I've got an important date to go to tonight." 

"Saga?" cheeky Akane quipped up shamelessly from the front. Karen's tried to scoff away the deepened blush but that was all the answer anyone needed. Few chuckles followed, but the rest were too busy catching their breath and could only produce a sly grin. 

Paku turned around and whispered to Shizuru. "You know what? I might just seduce her boyfriend to get her back for putting us through these mind numbing exercises." 

"Paku! Hush and don't let Karen-san hear that! She CAN kick our ass! You've seen her with those numchucks!" 

The straw blonde woman proudly stuck out her chest and gave Shizuku the look of a temptress. "It's a free world. I can't help it if her boyfriend becomes attracted to me." 

"Oh my god! She's looking our way!" Shizuru hurriedly turned Paku forward again before the aerobics instructor caught them chatting. 

  


In the ladies shower room…………… 

"Ok Menchi – we are ready for any embarrassing stories about Hisoka and this morning incident. My whole body may be aching, but I can still manage to smile, and that bald ninja promised that I would be smiling all night. So spill the beans, NOW." 

Paku had managed to trap the pink haired cook between herself the gray steel lockers. Machi looked up in the process of wrapping a fluffy white towel around her body, ready to enter the showers before she stopped, hearing Pakunoda. 

"What's this? Has Hisoka done something wrong again? What is it now?" there was a hint of annoyance and exasperation in her voice. 

"You arrived late tonight because you caught a ride with Menchi, didn't you?" Paku narrowed her purple eyes. "Then you obviously didn't see who Hisoka was supposed to chaperone around for the next two weeks?" 

"No, I didn't. What's the big deal?" snapped Machi. Sometimes, Paku's sense of superiority annoyed her, and the way she flaunted her assets didn't help bridge the gap of animosity either. 

"Well," Paku loved drawing things out slowly and making people savour and wait on her words. "I actually don't have the full story. However, I did manage to hear tidbits here and there when all the guys walked into the lobby of the gym this evening." 

"Oh Paku, stop baiting everyone. Here's the deal," grinned Menchi mercilessly, instantly diving for the deep end. "You see, Illumi didn't turn out to be the seven year old boy we thought – so no Barney for him." Ranko and Shampoo, who had been changing in the isle just next to them, came over to listen as well. Truth be told, Hisoka was a handsome man, and who wouldn't have a slight crush for him? 

"Instead, he's actually around twenty three, four, and he arrived to Hunter Works this morning to meet this person, namely Hisoka, who was supposed to show him around for the next fortnight. The Director had apparently told him to wait in the dressing room until the shooting for that particular scene was over. Of course, Wing tied his tongue numerous of times – " 

Machi interrupted. "You're waffling again. Focus please." 

The storyteller enthusiastically nodded. "so Illumi went to the dressing rooms to wait. Unfortunately for him, Hanzo and Hisoka were there. Hanzo was *blank blank* that's a professional secret of course, and Hisoka was also lurking around to see when the Director would introduce him to Illumi. And that's when it all happened. So you see, Illumi – " 

"Has long black hair and a large pair of ebony eyes? Pale skin, quite skinny?" 

Menchi paused to look at Karen incredulously. The instructor had also tuned in to her vivacious story telling but had cut in to say exactly what she was going to say. 

Though stunned, Menchi was still able to utter the question "How did you know?" 

"I remember his name. We………went to the same high school together. I was in his year level, and Saga was two years older." Karen opened her locker and retrieved a bottle of shampoo and conditioner. 

"That's a long time to remember someone. Wasn't high school quite a while back?" Shampoo commented blandly. 

"Yes, it was" Karen despondently responded. Her eyes were slightly downcast and the way she slammed the locker door shut suggested quite an amount of force. 

"We all knew back then that he had family troubles. His father was a bastard through and through and he had friends in high places. Poor kid though, to have to live with someone like that. After everyone knew, Illumi couldn't even be bothered to hide the bruises anymore. Saga was school captain back then – so he spent quite a bit of time with Illumi as well." 

There was a moment of guarded silence as was the usual response to tragic stories which none of them could only feel compassion and sympathy for, but could not relate to. 

The Taibo instructor took a deep breath and forced herself to brighten up however. She gave what could only be described as a lively smile. 

"Well, at least there is some sort of justice in the world. Illumi's father died of a heart attack not long before our class graduated. All we can hope for is that he died painfully because if he didn't pass away sooner or later, I was going to kill that son of a bitch myself. Yeah, I would have made him scream so badly that he wished he never crossed my path. So anyway, is Illumi in the acting industry now heh? Good for him." 

That said, Karen gave another small laugh and proceeded to her usual shower cubicle, one hand loosening her long reddish-brown hair as she went. 

Everyone seemed to have quieted down a bit, blinking rapidly now and then from the steam building up in the showers. Menchi decided to quickly finished off her story. Whilst she spoke, her fingers also worked at teasing out the knots and tangles in her plated hair. 

"So anyway, yeah, ummm………..Hisoka mistook Illumi for a woman you see, and just sorta…." 

"Sorta………" everyone echoed in anticipation. 

Menchi gulped. "Just went up and kissed him I suppose. Illumi's shriek interrupted the shooting, and Hisoka was like……….crying, saying that it can't be true." 

"Saying exactly _what_ can't be true?" Akane narrowed her eyes and said suspiciously. 

"At first, Hisoka had problems accepting that Illumi-san was a woman. But then the Director told him to 'deal with it', and both of them ran from the building." 

Several chuckles and amused looks passed around. The Director's icy glares and death threats were well known among the acting circles. The other was Hisoka's rather unpredictable reaction. 

"You seriously telling me that he just….went up to some stranger and started kissing him?" Misao giggled insanely with a bout of disbelief. Menchi vigorously nodded. 

"Uh huh. Hanzo was frozen to his seat, so struck by the newcomer's beauty," she rolled her eyes and drawled a bit with a hint of banter in her voice, "but Hisoka just went straight for, you know, the 'direct approach'. The 'in your face method' or, what we now coin the "Hisoka Advance" – guaranteeing the most unpredictable results, absolute assurances of the other's sex not included." Menchi finished off her tirade mimicking an advertisement announcer even down to the way the conditions are read quickly and softly at the end of the commercials. 

Shampoo and Ranko couldn't help it anymore. They burst out into hysterical laughter and carried it all the way to their shower cubicles madly chattering and gossiping on the way. Even Machi was caught up in one of her rarer moments of unfettered laughter. 

  
The men in the showers just adjacent wondered why there was a sudden outburst of laughter floating from the ladies' changing rooms. They looked uneasily amongst themselves, scowling and frowning were predominant expressions, wondering whether they could have become the subject of mockery. 

"There they go again," Bashou muttered stripping off his sweat soaked T-shirt, "sharing some cozy little secret amongst themselves, and probably at our expense." 

Several grunts of agreement permeated the air. 

"Women art unfathomable creatures, are they not?" Phinx withdrew his shower accessories from his locker – namely his favoured block of soap with a slight lavender scent. 

Kuroro looked unconvinced. "You mean conniving, unreadable, mood swinging little demonesses?" 

General laughter followed. Illumi allowed himself a small smile. 

"My Kaa-san's different though – she makes sure you know what she wants, even if she has to scream it in your face just to get it through to you." 

Kuroro nodded. "That too." He added. "After spending years with my sister Megumi, I think that I might just be developing a phobia of women. That little manipulative bitch was always pulling at everyone's emotional strings and dad could never disagree with her once she uses her so-called 'charms'. Makes me sick." 

"Gee Dancho, you make it sound like the who female population out there is a bunch of vipers." Ubo snickered, stripping off his underwear beneath the towel wrapped around his waist just for a bit more modesty. "Maybe we ought to set you up with a nice one with all the good qualities and characteristics of a lamb. Don't worry, they won't bite and are totally readable." 

"Just make sure they're not wolves in sheep's clothing. But that's right – you DON'T know until you start going out with them, and when you do find out, trying to shake them off is harder than scaling Mt. Everest without oxygen tanks. And if you DO find a lamb, the quality of conversation goes down the drain." 

"There's no pleasing you is there, Kuro?" Hisoka came around from the other locker isle where his belongings were situated. "Stop worrying about what women are really like and enjoy them for the sheer physical pleasure." 

"Buzz of Hisoka, we're not all lust driven beings deprived of intelligence. Unlike you, I would prefer to actually settle down someday." 

"aww…" Hisoka playfully feigned that he was hurt. "I didn't know you thought of me that way, like I was some shallow creep. The difference is……….." he paused and looked away from Kuroro when he spotted Illumi heading straight towards the showers. A deep scowl or irritation appeared. 

"Hey! Just who's shower cubicle do you think you're going to use?" he called out angrily with undertones of spite as well. He quickly walked over the Illumi and aggressively loomed over him. A large pair of black eyes glared back icy daggers at him. His voice was as equally chilling. 

"Just how was I supposed to know that you held all exclusive rights to some stupid, public shower cubicle? Jerk off all you want in there now get out of my way. I don't want to ruin my image by picking on some highly immature baby." The pale white hand that held the towel wrapped around his chest trembled with rage and Illumi only gripped it even tighter. It wasn't hard to imagine him baring his fangs too. 

A vein popped on Hisoka's forehead. 

"You little ingrate! I'm sick of all your stupid childishness! I told you off ONCE, and it was FOR YOUR OWN GOOD! Then you go off and ignore me for the rest of the evening with your 'oh so cold' attitude." 

"Like you're any better you selfish creep! Your head is too stuck up in the clouds and you're ashamed to be walking around with me or something! Gods, just listen to the way you talk, you think you're so great! You think you're like some Casanova that the girls are just tripping themselves over wanting to go out with you. Well, you're nothing like that! Your paper thin personality repulses me and your act isn't new either!" 

A sudden urge of violence seized Hisoka. "Yeah, well, I AM embarrassed to have to go out chaperoning this adult who still hasn't been able to figure out his sexuality! And what's this?! Why do you wrap a towel all the way up to your chest? Afraid we'll see your breasts or something? Take that off this instant!" 

A rough and vicious struggle occurred which eventually ended with Illumi sinking his teeth onto Hisoka's right forearm. 

"Bitch!" the magician roared and reflexively pulled his arm away then launch immediately into a counter attack. 

The sound of the slap rang clearly around the steam affected showers and it bought every one to a standstill. Even the noise of the water coming out of the shower heads and splattering on the bathroom tiles seemed only a mere background accompaniment. 

Illumi's hand cupped his reddened cheek having suffered the full force of Hisoka's blow. Tears stung his large luminous eyes now brimming with uncontrollable anger, so much so that he couldn't even spit out a devastating reply. Hisoka had just about enough of everything. See, he knew someone was going to end up in tears with this whole business. Roughly he shoved Illumi into the shower cubicle and slammed the door shut with incredible force. 

"Go, cry like the stupid baby that you are, like I would care anyway!" he retorted rudely but a massive wave of guilt and regret was already threatening to render him nostalgic the moment those words left his lips. The site of Illumi's teary expression and now his open sobbing suddenly hurt him like a knife twisting in his what he thought to be non-existent heart. Frustration rapidly drowned out the guilt, just sheer unconfined frustration at everything that was all happening, rushing him along before he had the chance to analyze everything carefully. Damn his stupid habit and short temper. If he could have only have shown just another ounce of tolerance, then the night would have ended as least neutrally for the both of them. But no, he just had to fuss over some shower cubicle. 

Just apologize, a rational and reasonable voice said in his head, then it will be all over and we can all make up over tall frosty glasses of beer after this. 

"Illumi………" 

"Go away. You said I was your friend and now you've hit me. I don't ever want to speak to you again." 

Before words of apology could come through, his irrational side got the better of him and another series of vindictive and malicious words escaped. His fist slammed into the spotless white plastic door leaving several hairline cracks and his voice became as venomous as a deadly cobra. 

"Go rot in your precious shower stall then you fucking useless crybaby." 

"IT'S YOUR FUCKING PRECIOUS SHOWER CUBICLE!" came the enraged scream from within. 

It took the combined strength and efforts of Nobunaga, Phinx and Ubo to restrain Hisoka and prevent him from tearing down the door so that he could rip out Illumi's throat. Others tried to calm the hysterical crying and coax the man out of the shower. 

Hisoka was still struggling against his restraints, harsh words and names flying out with every intent to hurt. Phinx and Ubo dragged the magician into another shower far away from Hisoka's usual stall and Nobu immediately went for the cold tap. 

"Just chill out Hisoka. Here, bring that showerhead over and make sure you really hit him in the face with it." Phinx instructed Nobunaga. 

Splutter, splutter, splutter. 

"Phppphh…what are you guys…….*gargle*………doing?" Hisoka rapidly blinked to get the water incessantly rushing into his eyes. He tried to shy away from the nozzle but Phinx and Ubo clung onto him even tighter, determined to hold his head in place. 

"Are we calm yet?" Nobu said calmly. 

Hisoka spat out some water in disgust. "YES! Yes!…..I've calmed down now ok!" 

"He still sounds a little hot headed for me." Ubo casually observed. "Nobu, give him the whole body wash." 

The other two actors nodded. Phinx and Ubo pushed Hisoka over so that he was bending at the waist, like he was bowing down to Nobunaga and the latter turned the spray to maximum and a waterfall of cold, chilling water hit Hisoka's back. 

The sudden cold contacting with his heated skin drew a violent reaction, enough so that Ubo and Phinx were thrown back. However, Hisoka dived straight for the hot water tap and adjusted it so that warm water finally trickled out. His lips were trembling and his hands were rapidly rubbing his arms, urging his blood to flow again after it had temporarily frozen. 

Nobu helped pick Phinx and Ubo off their wet backsides and studied Hisoka for a moment longer, watching the magician now scrub his face and run his fingers through his hair over and over again under the falling water. 

"He's just agitated now. Best to leave it at that then." Nobu commented, his tiredness clearly evident in his voice. They left Hisoka to himself and stood back to watch the unsuccessful attempts of Kurapika and Gon in trying to get Illumi to come out. 

Kuroro pulled them both back, a bit touched at Kurapika's endearing look of concern. "Just give them both some time. We'll just all get changed and wait in the lobby for him. He'll come out sooner or later." 

Gon approached the cracked plastic screen for one last time. He spoke hesitantly. "You hear that Illumi-san? We'll be downstairs at the lobby, so you just take your time ok?" 

"………k………" came a the soft response. At least his crying had finally subsided into a the few occasional sobs. 

"All right everyone, lets move out!" Kuroro ordered. 

  


* * *

**9 pm – Toguro Bros Gym lobby.**   


The female cast of Hunter x Hunter nervously fidgeted as they waited for the men to come. As they had stepped out of the showers and were busily drying their hair or slipping on into fresh clean clothes, the racket from the men's showers gave them all cause for concern, especially after the sounds of screaming and loud banging could be heard. Akane and her friends left soon after however, though concerned, and so asked Ponzu to fill them in at their next gym session together. Shizuru worriedly lurked about the lobby. 

"Just calm down – it was only Hisoka having another fit." Menchi ran a brush through her stiff hair. 

Shizuru was wringing her hands like a fretful housewife. "It sounded more like a fight than a fit Menchi. You think one of us should go in and see what's happening?" 

Mocking laughter came from Pakunoda. "You know what they'd say about you for the next two weeks afterwards if you so much as stuck your head in there Shizu. Leave it, it will be all right." 

"Paku! How can you be so heartless! You and I heard crying too remember?" 

Machi suddenly paled. "Oh gods." 

"What is it?" Ponzu piped up clearly not liking the turn of things. She feared what Machi had to say. 

"What if it's Gon or Killua who's crying? Think about the implications," she urged. "the two main actors of Hunter x Hunter reduced to tears in the male showers after a gym workout, surrounded by muscular, sweaty men who've had a tired and stressful day and they see two young kids……" 

"I commend thy imagination," Phinx's sharp voice cut in with clear disapproval, "but thou dost think too lowly of us. Would we, honourable men, stoop to such low acts as pedophilia upon two hapless and defenceless children? I should hope you think not." He turned his noise to the air and exuded an injured aura of haughtiness. 

"Just forget about what Machi said," Shizuku quickly interrupted, shielding Machi with her own body lest Phinx and Feitan saw her sticking her tongue out at them. "What happened in your showers?" 

Kuroro gave a slight cough. "Something along the lines of World War III. Hisoka and Illumi were fighting over a particular shower stall and Illumi ended up crying." 

"Did you say that it was Illumi who was crying?" Karen asked in alarm. 

"Why thouest make it sound like it be the oddest thing thou ever did hear." 

Karen glared at Phinx, no, glared at the entire male cast of Hunter who had slowly filled the lobby. "Yes, in fact, throughout all my high school years, I have never even seen him shed a tear, not even when his skull was fractured or that he was bleeding from a dozen wounds." 

Her glare became downright menacing and she folded her arms across her chest. "Where is he now?" she snapped. 

All the men immediately stood to attention and cast uneasy glances amongst themselves. Who would be in the best position to speak and suffer the least consequences of Karen's unholy wrath? The elevator doors then dinged opened behind them and Hisoka greeted the straight backs of his co-workers with his usual flagrant insolence. 

"Why so stiff guys? You look like you've become targets of the firing squad." He laughed softly at his own joke. 

~ _We are!_ ~ the rest of the male cast mentally groaned in unison. 

The second set of elevator doors also opened and Illumi finally stepped out, his eyes downcast and hair still slightly damp. 

Karen went straight to him and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Illumi-kun?" She bent over slightly and cautiously peered into his face.   
"Why is there a faint imprint of a hand on your right cheek?" 

Illumi refused to answer and rubbed at his already sore, red eyes some more. He sniffed.   
"It's nothing Karen-san………….Karen-san?" he repeated again with incredulous recognition. Then with a much more brighter and fervent tone asked, "What are you doing here?" 

"I haven't seen you for a few years Illumi-kun, how are you doing?" 

Seeing an old school friend made Illumi completely forget about the little incident just earlier. He began babbling to Karen about where he went after graduation and what he was doing here in Anime City. 

"Little crybaby perks up when he sees a chick." Hisoka sneered and muttered quietly to himself. Both Nobu and Bashou, who were standing on either side of him, implanted their knee firmly in his stomach and Kuroro also put in a rather professional left hook. 

"Put a sock in it!" the three growled. 

"Well, since everything looks like it's ok, I'm really in the mood for some dancing. Anyone up for Starlights Club? It's Thursday night so it won't be as crowded. You could probably even carry on a conversation in the quieter corners if you want. So, who's with me?" 

"You really are a party animal aren't you Menchi? Where do you get all that energy from? I'm just about exhausted from Taibo already." Shizuku commented, already heading out towards the sliding glass doors. She turned around. "Say Illumi-san, you want to come with us?" 

Illumi brightly nodded – "Sure!" 

He waved a vigorous goodbye to Karen and trailed after the group who were slowly filing out of the Gym. 

* * *

  


**9:30 pm – Starlight Club**

Starlight Club was a popular gathering place for A-list actors. Although it was called a Club, the music was softer than most other clubbing locations and the music was decidedly less upbeat. They mainly played the more popular songs by popular song artists which one would usually hear on radio. It was situated close to Serenity Pictures and run by three very successful partners who had their own feature in the hit show Sailor Moon. Known as the Three Starlights, they operated this successful joint purely on class and taste alone. People seeking entrance had to have some sort of fame – fortunately for Illumi, the bouncers outside allowed him in when Kuroro had several words with them. 

The interior was shaped like a five pointed star. At one point, the DJ was suspended on a high shimmering platform mixing tracks and juggling the records. In another point of the star was the bar, lined from top to bottom with a massive arsenal of drinks which the bartender knew the locations of each bottle by heart. In the two other corners farthest from the DJ's suspended platform were clusters of comfortable cushioned couches and low round tables. The last point of the star was unoccupied for that was where the entrance and exit were. The center of the star was the magnificent dance floor free of any dirt, grime, vomit or spilled drinks. Though a relatively small club, there were at least forty to fifty people who were bobbing up and down, swinging hips and a few select males break dancing on the dance floor. Christina Aguillera's latest hit single "Dirty" was blasting from the stereos and a cheer went up now and then. 

"Lets go! They've got my favourite song on!" Menchi grabbed Shizuku and Machi out to the dance floor with her, the cook resolutely making her way into the center of the pressing crowd, determined to be seen. 

Feitan chose to make himself comfortable on the dark maroon velvet couch.   
"This place all of a sudden feels so much more comfortable now that we don't hear girls squealing Darien's name." He said contentedly. 

"Ah yes……….maybe some of us will actually get lucky tonight." Hanzo grinned, stroking his chin in thought. His keen eyes quickly made to scan through the few selected women who were allowed entry even though they weren't actors. Every night, the bouncers allowed a quota of thirty people to enter – the only condition was that they were dressed immaculately and were the most beautiful of the beautiful. Indeed, Hanzo spotted many appealing and pleasing figures dancing in the crowd – no men around them. Even better. He quickly excused himself and followed Menchi's example, slinking off into the presses of bodies. 

  
Hisoka meanwhile went to the bar to get drinks for everyone. The most disturbing alcoholic alive threw him a casual smile. Lola was a stunning woman with long flowing raven black hair which was tied high tonight into a tight ponytail. Outrageous blue glitter was generously smothered across her eyelids, and her lips were equally blue with an expert black outlining. She wore grungy, tacky stuff, yet was the person who bore so much confidence that she made whatever she was wearing look good. 

"How's it doing?" she coolly asked him. 

He granted her an equally charming and casual smile. "Terrible, just terrible. Within the space of one hour, I've been kneed, punched and bitten. Everyone must think I'm some sort of pin cushion or something tonight." 

Her eyebrows shot up and her mouth formed an O as if to say ouch. "Want something stronger then?" 

"That is a very good question. Lets see then………." 

If Menchi was a wild party animal, what could be said of Legato Bluesummers was that he was the GOD of all parties. Unlike Darien, his intention was to ride along the crest the waves of never ending high spirits and the intoxication of indulgence. Even before his role as the sugar toothed esper in Trigun, his lofty good looks and enigmatic gold twinkling eyes had sent not only hearts fluttering, but also set a few fashion trends. For a brief while, people went crazy laying their hands on every pair of goldern coloured contact lenses that they could obtain. People wanted to be like Legato – his impressive height, his lean frame and broad chest, his sleekly narrow eyes and an assured smile signaled the start of a party and a wild night of fun. Currently, he dominated the center of the dance floor engaged in what was a rather erotically dirty dancing with the well endowed Menchi whose jacket had long been discarded and revealed the skimpy singlet top beneath. Other party goers around them lifted their hands above their head and clapped to a sensuously tantalizing beat, emitting the scream or shout now and then. Sparks then tumbled all around them as the DJ gave the signal. Numerous specks of hot, bright, white light fluttered down in a shower of wonder, and chilly fog began to gather at their feet as the smoke machine got to work. Next came the mind turning session of strobe lights, followed by more cheering. 

Machi had enough of watching her party-crazed and delirious brother going at it with one of her co-workers. She wasn't really in the mood for dancing in the first place, let alone share the same club as Legato. She sighed and wondered if Paku was in a good mood for conversation. Unfortunately however, the latter was discussing something, by the looks of it amusing, with Kuroro. The music was blasting out of the speakers too loudly however, and it would not have been polite to inconspicuously edge closer to the pair to tune in to their discussion. So instead, Machi sat back down deep into her seat and sipped her drinks that Hisoka had brought for them. 

That made her eyes roll. The magician seemed oblivious to the events which had previously occurred and decided to throw more oil to the fire, so to speak. When he came back with a tray topped with multi-coloured tropical and alcoholic drinks, he deliberately laid down a glass of milk in front of Illumi and called him a baby. Gon and Killua giggled a bit, but Illumi angrily snatched Hisoka's drink out of his hand and downed it one go. Feitan closed his eyes to the scene and dozed off into a light sleep, content just to be in a hip and popular place without the presence of Kuroro's detested brother. Furthermore, he didn't really want to see any more of the fighting going on between his co-star and the new guy. 

"Um…Illumi-san?" Gon spoke up. "Illumi-san? Are you all right? You look awfully pale." 

"I actually don't feel so well. Why is my head spinning……and who put up heaters? It's burning hot in here!" 

Sure enough, sweat and perspiration were running almost in small rivulets down the sides of his face and his neck. His breathing became laboured and he certainly did not look like he was comfortable. 

"Oh gods, no." Machi exclaimed quietly in horror examining the glass which Illumi drank from. At the bottom was the residue of a powdery white substance that had not fully dissolved. Hisoka was equally stunned and muttering to himself, he sent Machi to fetch the bartender, Lola. 

The tall and impressive woman strode over, her expression plastered with concern and rage. She picked up what should have been Hisoka's glass and her scowl turned ever more fearsome, perhaps comparable even to the Director on his really dark and gloomy days. It was a glare which could have melted the glass and disintegrated the culprit into ash. 

"I knew those boys were up to something!" she grated harshly, the scowl deepening further still. "They wouldn't be hanging around my bar if they weren't intending to pull a prank on you Hisoka. I….I feel absolutely terrible about this." 

She professionally went over to examine Illumi who was now silently whimpering, his body slack and limp on the sofa. Lola placed a hand on the forehead and instantly withdrew it. 

"He's burning up. Hisoka, take him to the hospital to have his stomach pumped. I'll deal with the perpetrators and make sure they pay." 

Killua was impressed. The way Lola had said 'pay' just then made it sound more like 'bloody revenge and torture'. Like Gon, he helped Hisoka heft Illumi onto his shoulder and withdrew, looking at the ironic debacle. Hisoka, who only minutes ago been banging on Illumi's shower cubicle door and screaming obscenities was now subdued with anxiety and asked the bartender a series of short questions, all of which Lola responded curtly and seriously. They gave each other a curt nod and parted, heading their separate ways. Lola's blue glitter covered eyes blazed with a coldly homicidal aura and Hisoka quickly left for the exit. It was time to pay his long time friend, Dr. Faust, a visit at this hour.   



	6. Chapter 6 Two weeks with the New Guy: Pa

****

CHAPTER 6

Two Weeks with the New Guy – Part III

Trying to show the New Guy around, but bogged down by misunderstandings.

****

7:00 am – Hisoka's apartment

Illumi groggily opened his eyes. He almost cursed out loud for his eyelids felt as heavy as lead and his muscles stiff and sore. He felt as if there was a great weight on top of him which restricted his breathing into low, shallow gasps. Reflexively, he groaned.

"You feeling ok?"

There was a voice, an oddly familiar and vexing voice carrying the memories of much pain and anguish. The voice was nearby, just above him to the right, but it had been too quick and fleeting for him to tell exactly where. He needed to focus his eyes and adjust to the surroundings.

The roof was a dirty beige in colour with large cracks in the paint and peeling in some other areas. The light was a conventional spotlight at the center with a filthy yellow ring gathered around it, specked with bits of black. However, the light wasn't on, yet the room was still visible. It had to be morning. And he was not in his own bed. Illumi painfully urged his head to turn towards the direction of the voice and felt himself looking in mild disbelief at Hisoka's tired and concerned face. What on earth was happening?

Hisoka had felt like a husband waiting for his wife in the labour room, pacing forward and back like a caged animal as he waited for the cry of a newborn baby. The person whom the Director had entrusted him with for two weeks was already 'down' (so to speak) after spending less than twenty four hours with him. Never mind the fact that they had almost come to blows over a shower cubicle, now Illumi had somehow managed to swig a spiked drink. He had to sneak Illumi into a hospital room with Faust when he discovered that he had no identification or details of Illumi on him and so could not register the young man at hospital. Thankfully, Faust, being the good old friend that he was, granted him a favour and helped him out on a strictly private basis. In short, the whole incident had been illegal, and even Faust didn't have the powers in the hospital to allow Illumi to stay there overnight. Raking a tired hand through his thick, straw blonde hair, the doctor recommended that as long as Illumi had a place to rest properly, it didn't necessarily have to be at the hospital. 

So Hisoka bought him back to his own rented apartment and gave his guest his own bed whilst he spent the restless and worried night on his near broken couch. He had always meant to replace it with something new, but never had the time to go sofa hunting, but for those few dark hours, he continuously belated himself for putting off something this important. After two unsuccessful hours of trying to find some sleep on the sofa which threatened to put all the discs in his spine out of place, Hisoka gave up with a grunt and a sigh and fixed himself two extra strong cups of coffee. He migrated to his own messy bedroom and sat on the edge of his occupied bed, patiently waiting for his guest to awake. Perhaps he had become immune to the caffeine through constant drinking, but Hisoka managed to doze off right until morning until he was hastily awoken by some response at last from the man he was supposed to be looking after. 

During his sleep, Hisoka must have fallen on top of Illumi, and he himself felt horrified at the ambiguous position he found himself in. Having pinned the other man down on his bed for most of the night, he immediately peeled himself off and checked to see if that latter was still ok. 

"Where am I?" Illumi said in a voice laced with fatigue and small annoyance.

"My apartment, on the bed in my bedroom?"

Hisoka watched for a slow minute as the information sank into Illumi and the raven haired boy miserably frowned and looked at him again.

"Why?"

"There was something wrong with your drink last night and you had a…reaction to it. I didn't know where you lived and didn't really want to contact the Director at that hour (it's not like I had a death wish or anything) so bought you here instead." Hisoka stretched his hand to help Illumi tenderly brush the long strands of hair from his confused face hoping to soothe away the worries and bewilderment Illumi must have felt. One usually felt that way if there was a gaping hole of darkness in their memory, finding themselves at the Starlights Club and then the next moment, in a stranger's bedroom.

"Something was wrong?" his slender white fingers, rather cold and lifeless, clung onto Hisoka's warm ones out of instinct and reflex rather than anything else. 

Hisoka patted Illumi's hand comfortingly. "Don't worry about that, the bartender is going to get to the bottom of the issue."

Illumi pouted slightly and looked around him again. "I was sleeping in your bed last night? Where did you sleep then?"

"On the couch." Hisoka automatically lied without a second thought. Perhaps in his concern, something gave him away because Illumi's large feline eyes narrowed with suspicion. His other pale hand, still under the covers, slowly crept to explore the small area of space beside him on the single bed and noted that it was freshly warm. The beast of panic and hysteria slowly began to stir inside him and urged him to take a quick peek beneath the greyish white sheets, just to make sure.

"Oh for gods sakes, I didn't do anything to you." Hisoka snapped, but bit his tongue before anything else harsh and unnecessary escaped. He forced himself to calm and thought of another lie. "Yes, I fell asleep next to you, but that was because the sofa was uncomfortable."

The relief was like a pressure off his chest when Illumi's suspicion immediately vanished. Illumi bit his bottom lip almost prettily and looked slightly guilty, knowing that Hisoka had a most discomforting night because of him. Now, he looked shy and timid and drew the covers right over his nose to escape Hisoka's momentary anger. He blinked his large coal black eyes innocently and in appreciation.

"You should have put me on the couch instead. I wouldn't have been able to tell the difference anyway." He said apologetically.

"You are the guest. I'm ok, the night wasn't that bad. Now," Hisoka stood up and stretched feeling never better with each successful falsity. "now that you are awake and had your stomach emptied last night, you must be in want of breakfast, right?"

Noting the nod of agreement, Hisoka continued. "All right. It's still early, so not many places will be open. However I do know of a place open at this hour, but it's a fair way's walk away from here. I'll be back in an hour with breakfast, so you just get some more sleep then."

Illumi stuck a few fingers out from under the covers and wiggled them, waving goodbye and Hisoka patted him once more on the head then turned to leave. Illumi heard the front door softly click shut and continued to study the rather messy surroundings. He _could_ do something constructive within the hour that Hisoka was gone.

****

7:45 – Endless Parade

The word "trouble" rang on incessantly like emergency alarm bells in the minds of Kuroro, Ubogin and Shalnark. One could have said that events had turned out both fortunately and unfortunately. The fortunate thing was that Kuroro and Ubo both had a habit of meeting at the crack of dawn to make at least two laps around the block. They would usually bump into Sharlnark halfway. Afterwards, they would pass the first news stand to open in Anime City. The unfortunate event was the evil picture on the front page of the best selling newspaper broadcasting appalling gossip and images which shocked and horrified the three. Gossip and pictures featuring one of their co-workers. One who was already in big trouble and didn't need anymore.

"What can we do about this? Contact our lawyers and see if there is a case against this journalist and publication?" Shal jogged lightly to keep up with the fast power walk of Dancho and Ubo. Both of them hung troubled and worried scowls that told the world "piss-off-I've-got-more-important-things-to –think-about-so-don't-get-in-my-way". Shalnark however became irritated by the constant lack of response ever since they laid their eyes on the paper.

"So?!" he cried out aloud in near hysterical tones and agitation, careless to the fact that he was attracting attention from other early joggers. His two companions stopped to face him. "What are we going to do? There's nothing to be achieved by going and ask if this is true or not. That's not the point! We have to stop the publication of today's newspaper and make sure it doesn't sell!"

"If you're suggesting that the photo is doctored, then of course we can stop the publication." Kuroro turned to him with a coldly furious look in his eyes and moved on again. He continued to speak curtly. "However, since we've got no contacts in that particular news firm, we don't have inside information. The only way to confirm the truth and validity of the story is to ask that idiot himself. It is all we can do before the Director himself discovers and decides to fry his ass for good this time."

"Aye" Ubo boomed moodily beside Kuroro. "So lets save our breath to tell that idiot off instead of worrying what we can or can't do."

Shalnark silently acquiesced but continued to glare at the colour picture in his hand with a look of disdain and frustration. And a whole heap of despite for the photographer who made the snapshots. 

The trio continued to walk at a breakneck pace down Endless Parade and block of apartments where Hisoka lived came into view in its ugly majestic glory. Although the building was situated in one of the most exclusive streets in Anime City, being on the outskirts of the town meant that it was somewhat 'shoddy', with dirtied walls, iron railings showing rust and peeling paint and a general lack of life to the whole décor. The few pots of plants that some inhabitants had left on their balconies were neglected, dry or wilted. It mirrored the rest of the supposed garden that might once have been as lovely as Eden, but due to neglect and vandalism reeked of death and decay. It was the kind of place which instantly came to your mind when one talked of triads and black societies and where they usually lived or gathered. According to stories, the landlady was as equally frightening, reminiscent in some ways of the Director himself. 

Kuroro gave a cry of relief as he was the first to see Hisoka jauntily walk up the hill on Endless Parade with a white plastic bag stuffed with goods in each hand, whistling a merry tune apt and fit for a fresh and crisp morning. He paused and looked innocently quizzical as the three approached him.

"You are SOOOO dead." Ubo shook his head and hefted the newspaper right under Hisoka's nose.

Illumi set down the vacuum cleaner and heard his back groan with pleasure as he stood erect again. Hisoka's living room was now _much_ cleaner. The magazines, some of which had already been bundled, had been shipped off to the large rubbish dump at the end of the corridor outside. Other magazines revealing less taste were hastily tied together and thrown under Hisoka's bed, where it rightfully belonged. However, much to his dismay, there was a whole giant mountain of dirty clothes which had already taken down to hiding beneath the bed, so not long after, the clothes washer doing a frenzied spin of at least a ton of soiled garments. Having cleared most of the bedroom, it was then Illumi noted that the floor was also littered with dirtied plates and cutlery, half eaten then casually discarded dinners and numerous other plastic cartons from microwave dinners. Sighing, he rummaged through the kitchen and found another garbage bag to tip the disposable plates away, then set the dishwasher to madly spray hot jets of detergent water at grime which looked harder than bricks and stuck to the plates stronger than superglue. With the floor finally cleared of obstacles, it was revealed that even without the plates, the magazines or the dirty clothes, it was just as dirty, and hence he found the vacuum cleaner and scoured all the rooms.

Glancing with a certain amount of pride at the rather satisfactory job – given the time frame of course – Illumi picked up a clean rag and took to polishing the mirror that Hisoka hung near the front door which served as a last check for the suitability of his appearance before he left his flat. Unfortunately however, the mirror was so dull and smudged with goodness knows what that it could barely be said to be doing its job properly. With a small amount of Windex and a soft cloth, he squirted the blue ammonia onto the surface and vigorously scrubbed. 

His own reflection made him hesitate. Tinted black eyes were boring right back at him, like the windows on a limousine which could only look out but never in. They were eerily set on a painfully pale face, too lean or thin for any male's liking. His nose was slim and slender and his pinkish lips carried with them a perpetual pout. Atop his head lay the prized ebony mane, cascading down his curvy back down to his waist. It was the perfect image of a woman staring back at him, so vulnerable and fragile. How many years had it been enduring words such as 'fag' or 'homo' when he was merely walking down the streets to do shopping, or for yuppies in highly polished sports cars wolf whistling at him. It wasn't hard to alter one's image and fool the world. In fact, the world was very foolish, easily swayed by things material and external, never sparing time nor thought for what lay underneath. Or sometimes, people didn't give the world a chance to look in. He could easily cut his hair into a short, fashionable length and spend a few sessions in a solarium to get some colour back into his skin, and he could also change his choice of clothes. He could do anything he wanted, but it had been some time now since he wondered why he ever chose this mask of helplessness. Tracing his mind back down the winding and meandering, almost forgotten paths of memory lane however, was not the most pleasant way to pass time. 

A perfectly manicured finger traced his evident jaw line, following the shapely oval heart shape and pointy chin, caught in brooding and reminiscing. Echoes of brutal verbal abuse were ringing through his mind with dull clarity. He heard his own soft whimpers and sobs, but also, he heard his maniacally triumphant laughter drowning out everything around him in his mind. Laughing down the ages, always laughing with such diabolical glee and joy. It was the magnificent exultation of knowing that no one knew who you really were and that you had schemes and motives hidden deeper than the darkest and foulest abyss on the ocean floor, or the farthest reaches of the universe where no light has ever reached. It was the conniving delight at the idea that all along, you had someone in the palm of your hand, feeding them lies, feeding them anger, driving them insane. 

When his eyes came back into focus and gazed at his own image in the mirror again, there was such a bitter and twisted smile on his flawless face that it was almost unnatural. It was a smile which included all the shades of hate, despise, cruelty, mockery, arrogance and the bitterest triumph of all. He was the eldest child – the eldest son, and it was his duty to protect his mother and siblings from their so-called 'father'. But now that he was dead, Illumi never really got over the fact that the war was finally over, or rather, he knew nothing about life other than that horrendous struggle that occurred through his entire life but had ended nearly a decade ago. He may have lost many battles, with the innumerable scars down his back and front to prove it, but ultimate victory was his. The smile automatically widened at the thought. He was still alive and his 'father' was dead. 

Dead. 

But what now?

The mirror showed him the face of a very, very cruel man whose narrowed eyes alone could send spears of ice into the hearts of those who would gaze upon him now.

He wanted to burst out crying – he had always wanted to cry. He hated the look so very much. He took no pride in what he had become. 

Placing his hands on the small wooden counter beneath the mirror to steady himself, he lowered to head to avoid gazing into his own terrible reflection and let out a trembling breath, feeling numerous shivers rack his body. 

Saying goodbye to an old persona who had carried him through the thickest and toughest times was no different to abandoning an old friend for a new one, no matter how much you disliked him. It was such a dishonourable thing to do – but at the same time the world was irresistibly urging him to move on or perish. Everything was so different now. Happiness would soon be part of the equation in his life. What new identity did he have to fashion for himself? Why did he always have to make an image? Who was the real him? Who IS he?

"Illumi? What are you doing up? Are you all right?"

He had been so absorbed in his own turbulent mind of whirling thoughts and clashing voices that he didn't hear the door just to his right click open, nor was he aware of Hisoka rushing towards him, hastily throwing his shoes off to see why he was hunched over the coin bowl on the counter beneath the mirror. Illumi was so caught up in his thinking that he failed to see that too. 

"I couldn't get back to sleep anyway, so I just helped you clean up a bit."

"Holy shit Hisoka! I can see your floor again!" Kuroro playfully exclaimed from behind the magician, exaggerating his astonishment of course. Ubo's deep booming laughter almost shook the walls. 

"I thought this place was tiled! Not carpeted!" the great big man clutched his middle laughing. "And look!" he pointed to the small television. "I thought that was a small cupboard or rack the last time I was here. It turns out you have a tv!"

Shal took in a big breath. "And is it just me, or does this place actually have oxygen now or what? This place reeked of crap when I last set foot in here. Why…it's actually livable now!"

Great hoots of laughter continued whilst Hisoka dazedly stared at his own clean apartment. Illumi, affected by the contagious humor, laughed merrily with the group. 

The magician looked at the four of them, finding joy and amusement at his expense and scowled. 

"Now, where is the newspaper you were threatening me with just a moment ago? Grab a seat, make yourselves a cup of tea and let me see it. Just how am I going to die?"

Kuroro stepped into the now spacious living room and seated himself carefully on the near broken couch and placed the newspaper in front of him on the coffee table he never knew Hisoka had. They all gathered whilst Hisoka and Illumi both curiously leaned over to look. 

"Hey – that's when we were eating at the restaurant yesterday after we left the studio." Illumi brightly pointed out to the picture that the cameraman had taken of Hisoka feeding him a piece of cake on his fork. There was a mildly contented and satisfied look on the clown's face and a demure and polite smile from Illumi with slightly downcast eyes as he chewed. 

"The not so great part," Kuroro coughed "is actually the writing which also accompanies the picture. Would you like to have the honour to read the article aloud Hisoka?"

****

"Who is this lucky lady?"

__

Career actor and some-time model, now currently at Hunter Works, Hisoka has over the many years dominated the gossip columns with his "short-lived relationships" with numerous women, actors, singers and models alike. Angry boyfriends and other men whose women he plucked from right under their noses with his gregarious manner and devil's charms describe him as akin to a toad in that he hops from one lilly pad to the other, never pausing for longer than twelve seconds with each woman, let alone have any time to romance. But what we have here is truly astounding as our undercover agent has discovered Hisoka engaged in an intimate conversation with a ravishingly beautiful young lady at Gladis' Café, enjoying a fine piece of crème sponge between them. Later, both were down in a secluded area of the beach strolling on its warm and goldern sands, exclaiming in delight as the cool water lapped against their bare feet. Moments later, both were happily frolicking in the water, kicking up the cool ocean's water in a mock water fight…

Hisoka's voice trailed off and his voice was rimmed with disgust but the quaver in his voice indicated that he found the situation more amusing than he was incensed. 

"We were **_frolicking_** in the water?" he managed to squeeze out before he threw himself fully back on his couch, exploding with laughter, his hands wildly flailing and beating at anything it could reach around him. Illumi likewise held up the newspaper to have a good read himself before another smile broadened on his face.

"I'm a ravishingly beautiful young lady!" he said with a strained voice. Everyone could tell he was trying very hard not to copy Hisoka's example, but tears were beginning to leak out of his eyes that he eventually joined the magician in another series of hoots and gasps of laughter. 

Ubo resisted the urge to bang both of their heads together with his enormous strength and settled from roughly grabbing their front shirts and shaking them vigorously.

"Now look here! This is no laughing matter. Hisoka," Ubo turned his great unshaved head to the red head. "you have been filmed spoon feeding another **man**. The same **man** that the Director had you take _care_ of, not take _advantage_ of!" and then he turned to Illumi. "And you young man, you have been mistaken as a **woman**! Does this not offend you or embarrass you?"

Behind Ubo, both Kuroro and Shal nodded vigorously in agreement.

"Aww, Ubo, what can we do now? You know that _The Insider_ is a gossip column and hardly anyone takes their stories as serious facts anyway."

The giant let go of Illumi's shirt so he could stare menacingly at Hisoka at a closer distance.

"The point is that you shouldn't have been….acting like this in the first place! What on earth possessed you to do _this_?"

On cue, Shal held up the newspaper, flipped it to another page and pointed to the picture in which Hisoka was carrying Illumi in that classic style the grooms carrying their brides towards the waiting limousine used. One arm supported Illumi's neck and the other underneath his knees. It was quite misleading.

Hisoka shrugged haplessly. "Illumi was kicking water at me but hit his toe on a rock hidden beneath the sands. In fact, his toe started bleeding, so I had to carry him out of the water."

"Why didn't you let him limp?" Kuroro threw his hands up in exasperation and took over Ubo's job to give the red head a good throttle.

Hisoka looked at the rest of his co-workers as if they had been struck down by a bout of stupidity. "He hit his toe _hard_ against a hidden rock. We think the toe is probably fractured, and it was bleeding as well at the time. The Director told me to look after him, and you're asking me to let him limp for the next five hundred meters before we found a kiosk that sold bandages? Have you three gone crazy?"

Shal looked unconvinced. "Show us the stubbed toe." He challenged.

Hisoka looked to Illumi, who nodded slightly and took off his right slipper. He lifted up his foot for all to see that his big toe was indeed, swathed under layers and layers of bandages.

Kuroro rubbed his forehead from the pending headache and thought fast.

"Ok. It has been established that these photos were not doctored. However, the article only contains a half truth, and, for instance, failed to mention the fact that Illumi had injured himself – the reason for why he was carried…like that." He gestured in annoyance to Shal to fold up the offending newspaper.

"Now, since the story is indeed cleared, we need to think of something to make sure the article is disbelieved. I'm thinking about discussing the possibility of a press conference to make an open public statement from both of you with the Director. Is that ok with you Hisoka?" 

The latter was still unfazed. "It says here that I was with a woman. Let the world think that – what would I care anyway?"

"Hisoka, have you thought far enough to wonder what would happen if they did realize that Illumi-san was a man?" Shal said incredulously.

Hisoka shrugged again. "I don't see the fuss. So I'm having fun with another man. What's the big deal?"

"I knew this was a waste of time. We're getting worked up when the person in deep shit still doesn't smell the stink. All right Hisoka. We got the warning to you. When the Director starts shouting at you through your mobile phone, don't say you weren't prepared. We've got to head off to the studios to wash up and get to our places. If you could," Kuroro now gazed coldly at both Hisoka and Illumi "please try to keep your hands off each other for the next two weeks and your activities unambiguous. If I see the newspaper tomorrow morning and find a picture of you having a candlelit dinner at the top of Elysian, I swear I will kill you first, then throw myself off the tallest building."

He gave them both a look of disappointment, grunted in annoyance and left without another word. Ubo and Shal took off after him without anything else to add, leaving the two on their couch, stunned. After a while, Hisoka unfroze.

"Hey Illu." 

"Yes Hisoka?"

"Want to have a candlelit dinner at the top of Elysian tonight, the most exclusive building in town?"

****

8:00am – Studio 3, Hunter Works

"No, please! I can't take it anymore!" Gon groaned, twisting and writhing on the floor, his face muscles aching terribly from being over stretched.

__

…has the most irresponsible and flippant man in Anime City finally become enthralled by the raven haired enchantress? Who is she? How did they meet?

"Right here, and with a great, big, fat misunderstanding!" Wing howled finding it just as difficult to breathe, exactly like the other day when Hisoka began to complain about his shoes that he had to wear for a particular fight scene. The cramps in his stomach muscles were bordering on pain now, but he swore that this type of pain was never unwelcome. 

"One moment, it's 'freaking pervert', the next, _cuddling and caresses at the local park_, and then they're fighting over something as nothing as a shower stall! Oh man – both of them need to get their head checked or something….ouch." 

Master Wing fell off the chair he was sitting on and succumbed to yet another moment or two of sheer amusement which involved curling up into a tight ball, akin to fetal position, with a tear on the corner of his eyes. 

"Oh no, Wing is down again. Can we get this man some help please?" Senritsu discarded the flute that she had been polishing and knelt over Wing, fanning her hands desperately back and forth. She found that the man had yet again lapsed into another bout of hyperventilation and could not be reached, except by an oxygen mask. 

"Kurapika dear, run down to sick bay and fetch the nurse please?"

April shook her head for the sixth time this morning as she watched the blonde boy scuttle off. She was officially the main cameraman, and her job description did not entail her to look after the actors whilst the director was absent, nor was it her duty to make sure that they all took their positions so that the timetable could proceed on schedule. However, more and more frequently, she found herself doing these other odd jobs and tasks, especially separating the group who had a strong affinity towards each other and refused to be parted. Today, it was a scene with Kurapika, Senritsu, Bashou and Swuhala, yet a lot of irrelevant people to this scene were also present. Had it been Hanzo leading the gossip _again_, she would have personally man handled him and thrown him out the nearest window. She was that annoyed to have that much strength.

This morning, it had been quiet, klutzy Ponzu rushing in with Pokuru (they didn't even bother making excuses this time for arriving together at the crack of dawn) who clamoured into Hunter Works. With great panting breaths and trembling hands, they distributed the most startling, not to mention humorous, news yet again since the Darien affair at the beginning of the week. Bashou must have made a call to all the other co-workers who were off duty today, even Leorio, and within half an hour, studio was buzzing alive like a hive of bees with news and gossip. 

Sighing more in defeat than frustration, April leaned over Toby's shoulder. In his lap he had yet another copy of _The Insider_ and an expression of intense interest in his face. Without having to read the words, the brightly coloured pictures splashed across the page was enough to make April groan with fatigue and slap the palm of her hand against her forehead. 

"These pictures are real." The younger man said with hints of awe. He pulled the newspaper almost right up against his nose to study the lines and colours.

The photos looked more than genuine – there was no mistake April thought miserably to herself. It was not some cheap tactic to gain publicity. _The Insider_ was not so stupid enough to defame someone like Hisoka. No, this was full and living proof that the magician did indeed have a lovely stroll down the beach and park with the man Director Silva had introduced him to, and no, by the looks of it, Hisoka was not knocked out by drugs. And according to some quiet whisperings, there had apparently been a fight or scuffle down at Toguro's Gym last night, none of which was very pretty.

April frowned menacingly and cleared her head free of gossip. She looked like a disappointed mother or teacher with the rowdy group of *coughchildrencough* actors and fiercely clapped her hands numerous times.

"All right ladies and gentlemen! Wing is NOT going to die. Just drag him over there to that corner, and could the rest of you who are NOT supposed to be here please get out of the picture. This is not a request – this is a command. We are exactly ten minutes behind schedule now, and guess who wants an early Friday?"

People grumbled a bit but generally agreed that Fridays were short and they could easily discuss every trappings and happenings during lunch time at Gladis' Café or some other restaurant nearby. Leorio smiled nastily and emphatically nodded. Apparently, he had missed some fireworks last night when he skipped gym to have a few drinks with his other friends who had come in from out of town, so in fact, he had missed out on seeing who this Illumi person was. Truth be told, he would have mistaken him to be a woman at first, but still, after knowing that Illumi was a man, Hisoka was really testing the limits of his sexual orientation. 

"Where is the Director by the way?" he spoke up as he shuffled off towards the exit. "He's never late."

****

8:10am – Level 10, Hunter Works

"Anata! Who have you used to show our son around? He's – "

"Kikyou, KIKYOU! Please, just calm down. _The Insider_ is an obnoxious gossip column that no one takes seriously anyway."

"I DON'T CARE! FACT IS, ILLUMI – "

"Yes, yes, I know, he doesn't swing that way. So this is all just coincidence and bad journalism, BAD JOURNALISM. Please, just calm down. I'm late for work and all the actors are already in position, I have to be down there _right now_."

"ANATA! DON'T YOU DARE HANG UP ON ME – !"

Silva looked in horror at the finger which had 'accidentally' pressed the hang up button and shuddered at the horrible consequences of what he had just done. Placing the receiver back on the machine, he took in another deep breath and strode out of the office, locking the massive gold gilded doors behind him. The pictures in the newspaper seemed surreal. Hisoka had been crying and bemoaning the fact that Illumi was not a woman at the studio yesterday morning, so why were they caught in all those compromising positions?

Silva entered the elevator going down to level 3. His mind churned forward furiously. Hisoka was known to be a deviant – an unknown factor, an actor whose personality and mood swings were sometimes so unreliable you wondered if god was pressing his buttons on whim or something. It could very well be possible that just because Illumi was a man didn't necessarily mean that Hisoka could not be attracted to him. Silva heard himself groan with disbelief. Yes, Hisoka seemed to be a person entirely capable of being a bisexual if the other party was attractive enough. 

He had been surprised the moment Kikyou's eldest son walked through the door. He was expecting something more unlike his own image because of the way Kikyou had been describing her children to him all these years. She depicted to him a boy so weak and brittle than any more pressure and he would crack. He heard about a young man who was isolated in his own neighbourhood and could not stand up to his abusive 'father'. But when that same young man stepped foot into the Zoldick mansion, his icy aura alone stilled the living air around them and silenced the birds in the trees. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Killua struck to the spot with fright by whatever he saw in those depthless eyes. Perhaps it had been an empty and terrible void carefully concealed but was struggling to be free, or the mask which concealed it was gradually slipping under the pressures of time. Whatever he saw, it was not so much as nasty, but foreboding, unsettling, something which could not be treated lightly. For a brief moment, Silva felt like he was looking at a much younger version of himself, standing in the door way to his home, capable of being as ruthless and deadly as need be.

With such an impassive nature, he would have thought that Hisoka would be impervious and strong enough to handle him for the next two weeks. Hisoka himself was a wild card – a man who liked to live on the fine balance between life and its extremities. His own unsteady personality would be a good match against something as coldly unshakable as the monster in Illumi. How wrong he was – the Illumi he met at the studio yesterday morning was an indignant and outraged young man whose dangerous and gleaming edge had entirely vanished, smothered by a pretty pout, a stain of pink across the bridge of his noes and misty eyes welling up with tears. The icy chill around him had been softened by the perfume he wore, and his movements, filled with grace and elegance gave the general impression that he was a fragile indoor plant. The sheer deception alone was so _perfect_ that Silva was actually frightened. Scared. That sort of façade took a lifetime to work on and establish. The question was god knows what and why did Illumi have such skill? It was a wolf in sheep's skin, camouflaged so perfectly that even the other sheep around him didn't realize a predator stalked their minds and twisted their thoughts. And even the infallible, devious, cunning and daring Hisoka had fallen prey. 

The elevator dinged at level 3 and the feared and adored Director of Hunter Works alighted, his steps light and fleeting, lacking in firmness and confidence. Pushing aside the studio doors, he saw that most of his crew had gathered that morning, even though the majority of them were supposed to be enjoying their day off. His sharp eyes caught a newspaper sitting on a chair by the door and in one swift movement, he picked it up and studied the contents. 

His first reaction would have been to groan at Hisoka's miserable defeat, but his self control was beyond that now. He merely grunted, almost inaudibly so that it sounded more like an explosive exhalation, and gestured for his own son Killua and his friends Gon and Zuuchi to come.

"Yes dad?" Killua asked. The smirk he had hung on his devilishly handsome face all day still had not worn off.

"You three haven't got anything planned for today have you?"

"No sir." Gon diligently replied in the respectful manner that Mito had drilled into him. "We didn't have anything planned today except for finding something fun to do."

Silva frowned slightly. "Well, I'm afraid this task that I'm going to set for you is not exactly fun. Take Ponzu and Menchi with you – and get to Hisoka's place NOW. Mission – "

"Keep an eye on Hisoka?" Killua finished off.

The Director looked at the three boys with a grave expression on his face. "Yes." He said steadily. "For the meantime, I don't want the press to get anymore snapshots of them alone and together. Stay as a group, at **least** a trio. And observe them to see if any of this reporting….is true or not. I need to know."

"Oh" Zuuchi quipped up "Ubo and Shal had already gone and interrogated Hisoka-san this morning. Apparently, in _this_ picture, Illumi-san had hit his toe on some rock so that it was bleeding and Hisoka-san had to carry him. This photo is not doctored, but Hisoka certainly was not, and I quote, _carrying his new lover in the most romantic fashion to a picturesque restaurant facing the beautiful view of the rolling waves and cooing seagulls_."

Killua almost saw his dad choke. "This is hideous reporting indeed. I'll wait two days to see if it blows over. If not, I might have to call a press conference to clarify things up." He glanced sideways at Killua. "Aunty Kikyou is very displeased with me. She thinks that I've picked the worst sort of man to accompany her son for the next fortnight." When things were really the other way around, he grimly thought. The three boys nodded in understanding and set about to do fulfill their mission. All the other actors, under April's stern gaze and herding, finally made their way to their correct places and filming got under way, twenty minutes behind schedule.  


****

9:00am – Hisoka's apartment, Endless Parade.

Setting aside their homemade breakfast, Hisoka rummaged through his tattered bookcase and finally found what he was looking for. Illumi sat on the edge of the couch, his back straight as an arrow, blowing away the steam and sipping on some bitter Chinese tea. 

"Ah, this is it." Hisoka coughed a bit at the dust and shook the map out in front of him. When the dust finally settled, he laid it out on the coffee table and described Anime City to the other man. He pointed to center of the map, dominated by a large, towering skyscraper 200 stories high.

"This," the magician said with wistful relish "is known as Elysian. It's the most glamorous building in the whole of Anime City. All the major events and social functions that are worthy of the front page of _The Times_ takes place here. It is also within the very walls of this building that the extremely prestigious annual awards show is held – floor 150 to be exact. The Elysian also holds Tartarus – _the_ most amazing and wild nightclub here in all the city. Entrance is so exclusive that if a woman so much as has a hair out of place on her head, she won't be admitted. Legato Bluesummers, Machi's older brother, is of course, a VIP to this most deliciously wicked place. Floors 40 to 140 however, are known as the Asphodel Levels, but they're nothing dull to say the least. It provides hotel rooms to visitors and actors alike who are visiting from overseas, or important people in positions of power making their snapshots with famous actors like us – to make themselves better of course."

Illumi dutifully nodded.

"On the top two levels are the rotating restaurants – yes, they actually rotate to give the diner an exquisite 360 degree view of the city skyline – a most spectacular sight at night with all the lights lit up in a fabulous array of colours and glamour. Bookings for dinner have to be made before 5pm each day, and their buffets alone cost up to $200 a head. Worth every penny I say."

Illumi's eyes widened and he sucked in his breath. "That's quite a lot for one meal." He quietly commented, unable to pry his eyes off the central building dominating the map.

Hisoka couldn't help but let out a delighted chuckle. "Worth every cent Illu, every cent. What do you say? I make the phone call now and we have dinner there tonight – my treat. Pass me the receiver could you?"

The latter shook his head emphatically. "No – it's too expensive, and Kuroro-san expressly told us not to do that."

Hisoka leaned over Illumi and snatched the phone himself. His fingers started working at the number before the pale boy snatched the machine from his hand and hid the phone behind his back.

"No Hisoka! You musn't."

"Stop that Illumi. We're adults – we can do whatever we want."

"No Hisoka! Stop it! I don't want to do this!" The volume of their voices dramatically rose.

"If you don't say anything and I don't say anything, no one will ever know. Stop struggling damnit!"

Outside, Killua, Gon, Menchi and Ponzu could hear whinnies of defiance and growls of aggressiveness. There was the distinctive sound of clothes ripping followed by sharp, shrill cry. Both Killua and Menchi looked at each other with horror blazing like hellfire in their frightened eyes, and without a second thought, kicked down the door with a loud and impressive bang and barged into Hisoka's apartment.

****

"What in blazes are you doing Hisoka?!" Menchi screamed at the top of her lungs before she saw what they were doing, just to make them stop whatever it was they were doing. Ponzu and the rest of the trio balked at the scene before them.

Hisoka lay almost atop of Illumi on the couch, breathing harshly, his hair and attire a general mess. Beneath him, Illumi lay red faced and likewise panting, struggling at certain intervals in an attempt to shake Hisoka off. But both of the magician's arms were wrapped around the slender and delicate young man, and he had somehow wormed himself between Illumi's exposed thighs during the skirmish.

The two on the couch likewise gawked at the rather sudden and abrupt entrance of the Hunter actors.

"This is not what it looks like." The both said automatically.

"Urgh! I can't believe this! You've made front page already – what are you trying to do? Make us imagine you both in a black tux and white veil?" Menchi growled menacingly. She rolled up her sleeves and stalked over to the entangled pair and with one mighty pull, hauled the stunned clown off the young man and threw Hisoka to another seat. The rest of them all widened their eyes in silent appreciation. 

It took five minutes for Hisoka to explain what had really happened, and Illumi grumpily retrieved the phone from behind his back, warily placing it back on its receiver. His hair was a wild mess, almost a riot, and one of his sleeves was ripped at the seam along the shoulder. Illumi looked sullenly at the tear and vainly tried to make the limp sleeve stay up, unsuccessful in his endeavour. It was then that Hisoka tried to make another mad dash for the phone, only to be predicted and intercepted by Illumi who pounced on him midway. The impact sent both of their bodies colliding onto the coffee table, breaking it under their weight like twigs under a ton or rock. The scuffle continued, their tangled bodies rolling spasmodically on the carpeted living room floor, Hisoka sometimes crushing Illumi under his weight, the latter mysteriously able to flip back up.

This went on for a good five minutes until it was surprisingly Illumi who prevailed, sitting on Hisoka's stomach and pinning his arms to the ground with unnatural strength that the red head could not break free.

"It's no use struggling against my combined weight and the forces of gravity." Illumi uncharacteristically harshly informed the defeated man…er…between his thighs. "Swear not to touch the phone or…or…" Illumi looked around and spotted one fat little roll of white and black just near his feet.

"Or I'll draw a tortoise on your face with this permanent marker!" He waved the pen menacingly in front of Hisoka's face, making sure that the latter did see the word 'permanent' on it.

"You wouldn't!" Hisoka exclaimed with real fear. But the very determined look in Illumi's face told him he would. Furthermore, he had pulled the pen out of its cap already and was edging the black tip closer and closer to his blemish-free cheek. He gulped down his defeat with as much dignity that remained to him and feebly nodded. 

"All right – I won't make the booking for tonight. I won't touch the phone for the purposes of making a booking. There, satisfied?"

The severity in Illumi's expression rapidly faded away and he slowly beamed him a happy smile and hopped off his belly, pulling Hisoka back onto his feet in good nature. They all surveyed the broken coffee table, recently re-discovered, and the bits of sawdust and splinters on their clothes and hair. Laughing, both began to groom each other, Hisoka paying particular attention to the sharp shreds of wood in Illumi's fine mane gasping in exaggeration at the particularly larger fragments he found.

"All righty kids, I don't think you're quite ready for this sappy stuff yet." Menchi firmly held Killua and Gon by their shoulders and ushered them out the front door, both boys struggling under her grip. Ponzu steered Zuuchi behind her, but she threw back one last look at the embroiled pair, now giggling softly and patting the dust and wood chips off each other.

"Nuh-uh! You too Ponzu! That stuff is contagious. Do not avert your eyes and keep them forward!" Menchi barked, then slammed the door shut. They stood outside in the corridor, looking at each other with degrees of confusion and haplessness. Menchi however, had her arms crossed and tapped her foot with impatience on the concrete ground.

"Idiots!" she blasted furiously. "One minute they're fighting over the phone and the next, cooing like lovebirds in a pear tree on a warm summer's day." She gave the door a hard kick. "They're so engrossed in their own happy little world that they've completely forgotten that we're here!"

"They're just being playful." Ponzu weakly suggested, trying to force out a laughter and some humor in the situation. Menchi glared at her.

"So damn playful" she drawled sardonically "that they really do need to get their heads checked. They haven't even figured out whether they can stand and tolerate each other or not. We all heard what happened down at the gym last night – you two boys were in there to see it. Now to me, that didn't sound like 'play' – it really sounded like two mad dogs ready to rip each other's throats out. Less than twelve hours later, we burst into their home to find them squirming against each other on the couch." She threw her hands up in total helplessness and frustration. "This mission was a failure to begin with. I suggest we abort _now_ before we are exposed to the actions of these psychos lest we become infected."

The pink haired cook from Hunter Works angrily spun on her heels and walked towards the nearest exit, giving the garbage bins yet another savage kick. They all despondently watched her stalk off and wondered what they should do. 

"Well, Hisoka and Illumi-san's relationship is sort of chaotic. It's sort of moved beyond the stage that they don't know we exist anymore." Gon neutrally observed, but defeat evidently tainted his voice. In silent acquiescence, they all began to get a move on, knowing that theirs was a hopeless cause. Ponzu was biting her lip and looking worried. Killua asked her not to worry about his father – he would explain everything when they returned.

"It's not that," the blue haired girl hesitantly began. She peered around her quickly on Endless Parade just to make sure no one else would overhear. "Menchi-san has always had a crush on Hisoka-san. There are just the small things she does or the quick glances that she gives him during the few shots that they do together."

"Oh?" the three boys perked up with invigorated curiosity. Ponzu knew that she had spoken too much already, but it wasn't like the Director's own son would allow her to remain silent. Rolling her eyes, she continued:

"I think she's jealous – I mean, she never gets to do anything which will give her the remotest chance of being caught in an ambiguous position with Hisoka."

"And this new guy comes along and they practically do everything under the sun to mislead anyone who doesn't know that Illumi is a man that they are in fact lovers having a happy time frolicking around town."

Ponzu nodded gravely at Killua's words and sighed deeply. "And the thing which pisses Menchi off most is that there _is_ a strong relationship developing between Hisoka and Illumi-san already. And they haven't even been together for 48 hours, yet Illumi-san's already spent the night at Hisoka's place! And we've all been working with Hisoka for…what, seven months already? Menchi has barely spoken to Hisoka for more than two minutes at one go, let alone spend some quality time with him, and there _they_ were, dusting each other off in front of our very eyes without a single care in the world. I think someone really needs to remind Hisoka that Illumi-san is a man. That's where the attraction lies – Illumi-san is very…pretty." She added the last bit in with touches of self-consciousness, and her hand immediately went to bob the tips of her blue hair. 

Gon and Zuuchi agreed with Ponzu, but Killua silently dissented. The reason why Hisoka and Illumi clicked was because they both shared so much in common that they just didn't realize it. But Killua kept this thought to himself of course.

The footsteps of his co-workers gradually faded outside his door, and both men let out a sigh of relief. 

"There, that's got rid of them." The magician commented, walking over to check that his door was still functioning. Illumi went to the bathroom and retrieved a comb, working it through his hair immediately. 

"Sorry about your table Hisoka." He noted, but it didn't sound like an apology at all. Instead, both were rather amused and hung grins on their faces. 

"Well, it was worth it. We don't want the unofficial Brat Prince, Devil in Disguise, Boy with Highly Immature and Intelligent Mind with Equally Smart-ass Comments to Match to be following us for the rest of the day. I'd feel like I was babysitting, and going out on an unofficial date with the other two girls who showed up. They must have been working under Director's orders." 

"He must have seen today's paper." Illumi said solemnly. 

Hisoka's grin broadened. "Yup." His voice was brimming with cheerfulness. 

"You sound awfully happy to have been mistaken, pray tell, why?" 

The red head shrugged. "No apparent reason. I just take slight pleasures in pissing the right people off." 

"Director Silva Zoldick included?" 

"Director Silva Zoldick especially." 

Illumi immediately laughed and his hands flew up to cover his mouth. But he gently lowered them when he saw Hisoka sharing the same glee and felt himself smiling sweetly in return. After a while, Hisoka spoke again. 

"All right, we better get started. It'll take a whole day just to show you the four main roads of the City. We should go to the bowling alley on Paradise Grove – the people from Reikai Motion Pictures generally hang around there. Reikai Motion Pictures," the magician carelessly picked up any jacket which happened to be lying around and shuffled Illumi out of the front door and closing it behind him, "is our only ally. We both share the same script writer – Yoshiro Togashi – and so, there are some things in common. That, and also because Mr. Sayko, a partner at RMP, is a good 'friend' of the Director." 

"Associate." Illumi frowned slightly, correcting his friend. Hisoka took it all in a calm and easy manner. 

"Yes, yes. The Director, our living ice block, bless his non-existent heart or soul, doesn't care to have any friends. But that's beside the point. Fact is, Hunter Works takes up two buildings whilst RMP takes up the other two. We are all pretty close." 

Illumi studied the map, looking down towards the southeast of the city and noted a strange circular clearing with four rectangles. That must have been what Hisoka was referring to. He got the magician's attention by pulling at the man's sleeve and pointed it out on the map just to be certain. 

"Correct. That's where Hunter Works is. By proximity alone, we are the closest to Reikai Motion Pictures, and that's partly because we share a lot of scenes and sets. If you look further east on the map, you'll notice Serenity Pictures." 

Illumi gave a firm nod. 

"Stay away from that place. The girls there are so bitchy that even the hardened, spitting alley cats scamper to make way. That's also where the vile, spineless slug – " 

"Darien von Drosgen." 

"Fabulous! You're catching onto convention and local traditions already! Kuroro's not so perfect little pussy loving brother also happens to work there. Steer clear from that place. If you ever find yourself trapped in its horrifyingly pink and white walls, they'll do to you what they did to Fish Eyes." 

"Who?" 

"Fish Eyes – once a perfectly respectable man known as Dougy Cameron, now so uncertain of his manhood it's frightening. All throughout the Sailormoon Super S series, they gave him a baggy jumpsuit to wear with a low v neck cut and made him act as a woman half the time. The majority of fangirls out there wouldn't have known that he was a man until the episode where they gratefully allowed him to take off his shirt to reveal his flat chest and say that he was boy." 

Illumi looked positively frightened. "But wouldn't the fans have spotted that he was a man by his voice?" 

His companion looked at him dubiously. "Would I have known that you were a man by your voice? Heck no, and certainly not him. But he's been so ostracized from Anime City that he generally slums in his own apartment and broods. That's what working at Serenity Pictures will do to a man." Hisoka shuddered visibly even though the air was starting to warm up about them. "And don't get me started on the three Sailor Starlights as well. I thought my costume was bad, but imagine having to prance around in a skimpy leather number?" 

"They run a successful nightclub though," Illumi objected. "so they're pretty confident about their image." 

Hisoka shook his head, almost pitying his friend. "Poor, innocent and naïve little Illu. The three Starlights only run the place – they're administrators only, although they'd like everyone to think otherwise. No, no, Mistress 9 is the actual owner, though few people know and it's totally fine by her – one of the few decent women to have worked at Serenity Pictures." 

"The pretty lady with the very long hair?" 

"Yup, the very same one. She's the brains behind the whole business and came up with the idea of a club with the interior that resembled a five pointed star. Her husband is as equally impressive. One of my fewer friends who actually found a steady life. Enough of the reminiscing, you see the four roads converging onto the Elysian from north, east, south and west? They are the four main roads that form the bare bones of Anime City – Endless Parade, Fame Court, Fortune's Park and Glamour Isle. As you see, Endless Parade runs down South – all the way into suburbia, Fame Court stretches out East towards the beaches, Fortune's Park up North and Glamour Isle to the West. Another famous road is Lover's Lane – and I don't think I need to tell you what happens there." 

Hisoka winked at Illumi – the latter trying to hide his blush behind the map. He determinedly tried to steer the topic away. 

"My kaa-san has recently opened a clothes store. She said it was on Glamour Isle – I can see how that is an appropriate place indeed. We might want to drop in there after lunch." 

"Anything that might give us an appetite to feast on the buffet at Elysian tonight, no?" Hisoka smirked, patting his stomach and licking his lips at the thought already. Illumi frowned. 

"I was serious when I said that we shouldn't do it." 

"And I was equally serious when I said we should. And I also happen to have a mobile phone on my persons. Don't mind me whilst I make the booking!" Hisoka laughed, running madly away from Illumi with the cell phone in his hand. 

"Come back here!" the raven-haired boy immediately gave chase, sprinting down one of Anime City's four main roads chasing after an insanely giggling man with dark red hair. 

* * *

  


****

1:30pm TGIs, Paradise Grove 

Neon looked uncomfortably about her at the dull wall of bricks and unappealing decorations consisting mainly of frames of old newspapers showing happy faces smiling back at her. The small black tv on her far left was showing the tennis match between Justine Hennine and Anna Kournikova, the latter with her fine bronzed legs and goldern blonde hair having her face wiped on the floor with no contest. Other people were buzzing quietly, laughing, sharing jokes, swapping playful punches. It was Friday Lunch, and her sister had not shown up. Gon and Killua had been avoiding her ever since they arrived inside the restaurant and Ponzu was caught up in chattering with Shizuku, Machi and Pakunoda before they were even shown to their seats. Perhaps she could join them. 

"What are you talking about 'she stormed off'? She must have said something!" Machi exclaimed, then quickly remembered to keep her voice low and tried to look inconspicuous by chewing on the straw of her drink. Mmmm…lemon-lime bitter was nice. 

"Oh, she said quite a bit before 'storming off' all right – but after she said her peace, she just turned around and left. More like fled if you see it my way." 

"Lets get this straight first. You guys were sent, by the Director's orders, to keep Hisoka and Illumi company so that the media couldn't get anymore gratuitous images of them together. You then arrived at Hisoka's apartment and heard what?" 

"Grunting, petite and delicate whinnying, sounds of bodies pushing against each other, panting, deep breathing and clothes tearing." Ponzu reported as truthfully as possible to Machi without exaggerating. In a sense, she liked this attention she was receiving. As one of the more minor characters at Hunter Works, the more prominent female actors rarely spoke to her, let alone sit and listen to her talk with rapt attention. A small voice told her that using Menchi's suffering as a means of receiving attention and popularity was a small and demeaning thing to do, dishonourable to say the least, but even Paku was sitting just opposite her, listening to her with _rapt attention. _The Paku who got to wear a flashy black jacket with generous amounts of cleavage and an equally flashy skirt revealing generous amounts of thigh! 

Shizuku looked worried. "That sounds like…you know…" 

"Two people about to have sex?" Paku seductively suggested, raising her eyebrows a number of times after a series of winks. 

Neon, sitting just a seat away from Paku's turned back, felt her eyes widen in horror and heat flushing her pretty cheeks. Her hands wrung the white restaurant napkin provided in her lap with such intensity that had it been alive, it would have screamed in agony. Kurapika saw her positively struck with astonishment and went over to her. 

"Neon-chan, why are you sitting alone?" 

"I…I," she began to stammer at the handsome blonde's question, then forced herself to speak fluently. "I am waiting for my sister to arrive." 

Kurapika frowned and looked slightly perturbed. He tsked a bit and looked around to see if he could find any help. Noting that everyone was busy dining or engaged in conversation, he bowed down slightly and lowered his voice by two fractions, indicating that his words were for Neon alone. 

"I hear that Menchi is having a tantrum of some sort right now. Unfortunately, I don't have all the details. But even if she doesn't turn up, you shouldn't be sitting by yourself." He gestured for Neon to stand up and led her to the group of gossiping girls.   


"Ladies," he began brightly, "care to join Neon-chan into your group for lunch today? I think we are all quite aware that Menchi might not be joining us this afternoon." 

"Oh, but of course." Shizuku hurriedly clambered closer to Pakunoda so that there was an opening for Neon between herself and Ponzu. The young girl gratefully nodded and gave Kurapika's hand on her shoulder a small squeeze of thanks. 

"Can I also get anymore drinks for you ladies?" Kurapika beamed. Everyone on the table smiled and shook their hands, thanking him for the offer. 

All the female actors from Hunter Works sat in an awkward silence for some moments before Neon spoke up, with a sense of urgency in her voice. 

"What is this about one-chan throwing a tantrum? You guys all seem to know." 

Paku nodded gravely. "We do child, we do." She took a sip from her spicy margarita and continued. "Your sister was part of the Director's mission, issued this morning, to keep Hisoka and Illumi-san company. She saw some pretty nasty things that she didn't really want to see, but because she saw it, she couldn't help getting angry." 

Neon looked down at the table, concentrating hard. She had read all the papers that morning, especially the ones with Hisoka carrying Illumi-san across the beach and reading all the captions and articles that came along with the photos. However, everyone at Hunter Works had been in the business long enough not to trust a single word _The Insider_ would have to say, and Menchi was definitely no fool. She looked up again, her face set with determination. 

"I know one-chan likes Hisoka, but if you look at the pictures in the newspaper closely, you see that there is a bit of red on Illumi-san's feet. Hisoka was only carrying him because he was obviously injured. She couldn't have run out on us over something this insignificant." 

Machi patted her comfortingly on the shoulder. "It's not just the newspapers, girl" she shook her head with some pity. "It's what Menchi and Ponzu and the three kids saw and heard when they decided to give Hisoka an unannounced visit this morning. Ponzu now is kindly recounting everything down to the finest detail and how they were allowed to abort the mission without facing the wrath of the Director." 

"Please continue." Neon squeaked, dreading what she was going to hear. Before Ponzu could proceed, the larger men's table beside theirs erupted with loud, almost violent, laughter, heavy fists beating onto the table and the sharp and cutting noise of cutlery banging rattling on white porcelain plates. Neon felt her hands shaking so badly that even her arm muscles ached from all the tension. Looking into the spitefully amused face of Leorio or the incredulous faces of the Genei Ryodan men, so far so that Kuroro's jaw almost hit the ground with disbelief really urged Neon not to listen to Ponzu's story otherwise she would regret it. Swuhala had tears streaming down his cheeks and Bashou gasped like a fish on dry land. Wing had adopted a portable oxygen tank and had the clear plastic mask firmly pressed to his face as he tried to cope with the story. Not long after, he leNt the mask to Bashou so that the bigger man could regulate his breathing more calmly. 

"I only thought that those type of situations only occurred in novels or movies!" Nobu choked, his poor lungs wheezing and aching already. "What I would have given to see the priceless looks on all you people's faces when Killua and Menchi kicked the door down. I can't take this…I just can't handle this sort of news anymore." The samurai leaned back deeply onto his seat and clutched his belly, trying to persuade his respiratory organs to function again. 

So Ponzu rapidly told them the rest of all that happened, the wrestling and sitting on top of each other to the happy giggling afterwards. The women were stunned, simply too stunned to have a reaction. But Neon began to understand why her sister had stormed off just like that – whether it was justified or not was another story. 

"Insanity. Sheer, simple,_ stupid_ insanity." Shizuku was finally able to mutter. "Lets forget it. Menchi was right – lets not think about it and enjoy our lunch. Then, we all go shopping to forget al the unpleasantness! I'll bet that's exactly what our Gourmet Hunter is doing right now. " 

"Oh guys!" Machi called out to the rowdier table. "Is karaoke still on tonight?" 

"Uh-huh!" Hanzo called out. "Everyone in or not?" 

Grunts and nods of agreement came rolling in and the bald ninja looked pleased. Friday nights were always good to 

look forward to. 

* * *

Author's notes:   
I must thank you all for the most encouraging and constructive reviews so far. It inspires me greatly and gives a lot of incentive to continue writing. Untitled is still currently being worked on - things are about to wrap up over there so I can concentrate on this one with my full attention.   
*whew* I'm starting to like this story, and after 6 chapters, it's still at the tip of the iceberg. I hope I've left enough tantalizing hints for you guys to keep hanging on. Until the next chapter, cheerio! 


	7. Chapter 7: Shark in shallow waters

**Author's note:** Please read this chapter **in conjunction ** with Chapter 8 before making a review or any other decisions/opinions about this fic. Yes - this chapter doesn't move along too well, and neither does the next chapter, but whatever happens, please just read Chapter 8 as well THEN make whatever comments or opinions. 

**Chapter 7**

_The Shark in Shallow Waters and the Boy who never grew up._   
  


The magician showed up at TGI's not long after all the large white plates piled with steaming food had started to arrive. He took his seat at the crowded men's table and ordered only a drink – a delightfully refreshing and divine Ice-cream Sandwich to be precise. 

"Where's your other half?" Leorio snickered from the far end of the table, quaintly tucking the corner of his white starched napkin into his collar, pleased at his own thinly veiled insult. Given the general mood and atmosphere however, this led several people to make amusing remarks and jests followed by a series of giggling as well. Hisoka shrugged noncommittally, neither flushed or irritated. 

"His mother wanted him to look after her shop for the rest of the afternoon. Sudden arrangements or something on her behalf, so I showed him where Glamour Isle was and came here to spend the rest of my lovely afternoon with my fabulous co-workers." He probably intended the last few words to come out as drawling sarcasm rather than factual truth, but the fact was, insults were in fact jests and jests were in fact insults, so everyone took them and made them in good humor. 

"His mother has a shop in Glamour Isle?!" Paku picked up on this information and exclaimed incredulously before she could control herself. Within moments, the women's table had been pushed (much to the objection of the restaurant owners) so that it was adjacent to the mens. "That has to be some pretty ritzy place. Pray tell – what's the name of this store?" 

"Fantasia." Shalnark immediately supplied smacking his lips free of the . 

All women's jaws swung open – Paku's hit the ground. Machi ungraciously choked on her drink. 

"Illumi's mother is the owner of Fantasia? Why didn't you call us immediately?!" 

Hisoka looked slightly annoyed. "The store is not going run off or anything. It's still going to be there after lunch. Oh – and he says that he's going to give a discount to anyone he knows from Hunter Works – make yourself known." 

"But of course." The four woman instantly replied, a sparkle of glee in their eyes. 

"And I couldn't call you anyway – my mobile phone has been confiscated." He added grouchily. The waiter came over with his tall glass of blended ice cream, Oreo flavour, and Hisoka took a long, heavenly draught. Everyone was eyeing him attentively. It was all part of his charisma and charm. His presence and sheer force of personality attracted, no, demanded, everyone's full attention because he was who he was. Hisoka – a man's whose actions had already put him down in the books of infamy, yet wore it proudly like a badge. Flouting traditions and customs to him was but a mere stroll through the park. He engaged in the darker, more primal and sensual activities and sports denied to most law abiding citizens. People couldn't help but be attracted to his incredibly individualistic aura.   


But today, just today, he had a nasty suspicion that people were looking at him for other reasons. Other, not so flattering reasons.   


Kuroro cleared his throat slowly. "You do realize, Hisoka, that you've basically made yourself target for all gossip circles – possibly for the next two weeks. And now, so not to keep us in suspense, just frankly tell us what has happened to your phone, otherwise we'll be jumping onto the wildest pieces of information and rumors." 

Hisoka looked unhappy and sighed to express his sentiments. "I was going to make a booking – dinner for two – at the Elysian tonight. I never realized that Illumi could run so damn fast…." 

There was a sudden flurry of activity down Kuroro's end of the table. Ubo had been the first to leap out of his chair to pin Kuroro down. His own glass drink tumbled over and stained the white table cloth a bright green and the remnants of his pasta likewise flipped and contrasted sharply with the colours of the drink, giving everyone eye sore and made gave the allusion of vomit, fresh and warm. However, the struggling Dancho beneath him was as strong as an ox, so Bashou and Hanzo added their weights on top, each clamping down firmly on Kuroro's flailing arms so that no more cutlery could go flying or plates breaking. Hisoka calmly observed Kuroro's reaction, but a small smile surfaced. It was faintly cruel. 

"Ahh….that was most definitely worth it. Well – it now seems that I didn't have to have that dinner at all. I was merely curious as to whether you really would carry out your threat to….you know…kill me." 

"At least Illumi-san sill hath some brains to compensate for thy lack!" Phinx retorted sternly. He continued to gaze levelly at the red head. "It is sound advice that one should never carry jokes to their extremities, lest they have the ungodly desire to land thyselves in hot and sticky trouble. If thouest harbours such a death wish, please give us early warning so we can evacuate to another town and god spare the innocent." 

A few people muttered "Amen" but Hisoka's eyes narrowed dangerously and looked suspiciously around him. His voice was just above scathing venom, only just. "And it is equally advisable that one should never take the words of a gossip column too seriously, nor believe everything that your eyes may see. As actors, aren't we the first to know that we can never trust an image?" 

TGI had been a warm and cheery place only moments before. The delicious aroma from the food smacked people's nostrils and made passers by drool. There was a steady rumbling of voices from all the conversations carried by the diners, and the chittering of cutlery against the porcelain plates. A cold, unsettling silence now oppressively descended upon all actors as two men went face to face in a deathly icy staring match on a battleground not of this earth. They had been transported to an arena with no spectators in the grand emptiness about them, just a solitary battle with the bitter wind cutting at their cheeks and stinging their eyes with their wildly lashing hair. It was a battle with no honour or glory. Neither yielded an inch nor gave a quarter, and neither seemed the type to back down either. The people on the side either faded into ghostly apparitions or were reduced into unspeaking, invisible spectators of the most glacial fight on earth. 

Killua looked at Gon, Gon looked to Zuuchi, Zuuchi looked to Wing, Wing to Leorio, Leorio to Kurapika. Kurapika to… 

"All right – Hisoka, you say that we have been misled by these pictures in the newspaper. We say that there is nothing to misunderstanding. So at least give us an explanation." The blonde tried to walk that excruciatingly tight rope down the neutral middle and with his warm and vibrant character alone tried to thaw the icicles around him. Hisoka did not break the deadlock between him and Phinx, but tersely asked the group to raise one of such 'misleading' photos. 

Nobu and Shal quickly led a discussion with the rest of the group, a dozen or so magazines from handbags and backpacks were immediately spilled onto the table and a frantic flicking of pages took place. They all thought that the most damaging was the beach photo. Nobu presented it to Hisoka and the latter reluctantly breaking off the death match to glance at the image. He clucked his tongue a bit and shrugged his shoulders. 

"I thought I had already explained. Illumi was kicking water at me – you're not suggesting that it's wrong to have a water fight?" 

"Stick to the topic Hisoka" Feitan spoke up for the first time. "It's not the water fighting that's unacceptable. I think Dancho is right – if Illumi-san hit his toe on the rock, the most you could do was support him to the nearest kiosk. We are of the most humble opinion that picking him up like that was…unnecessary." 

Hisoka felt genuinely incredulous. They were all fussing and objecting now to the way in which he carried Illumi? 

"At that time, Illumi was _quivering _with pain so much so that he was trembling on his other good foot, let alone limp the next five hundred meters even if he had my support. I was actually thankful that he didn't bust into tears right in front of me – again – so exactly what could I have done? Really guys, don't be persuaded or influenced by the despicable words of _The Insider _– I carried him in the most practical way, not romantic or…what were the exact words they used…ah, here it is "_like a groom carrying his bride_". You guys actually fell for that kind of irresponsible reporting and sensationalism?!" 

The magician's defence ended as a denunciation of his co-actors with a highly accusatory tone. In one go, he managed to twist what was to be his interrogation into an outraged prosecution against them all. The sheer compelling tone in his voice and masterful manipulation of words convinced the most resolute of them all that he was right, and that they were all mistaken. Everyone hung their heads in shame – they had after all, accepted The Insider's depiction of the events without bothering to think for themselves or to remind themselves that given the magazine was known to be a shameless exaggerator of truths thus they should have been more guarded. 

"I swear if I weren't so nice or knew you guys better, I'd call you stupid, useless idiots for even buying into the magazine – which you already know to be an untrustworthy gossip column. Now is someone going to show me that they have at least two brain cells to rub together or do I have to cram some sense into your thick heads?"   


There was a moment's dull silence, a very thick and potent air of resentment now hung about their shoulders in a way that was almost crushing. 

"All right – change of hypothesis," Kuroro began testily, gripping onto the last vestiges of suspicion "what if it had been one of us who had stubbed our toes on that hidden rock? Would you have carried us that way?" 

Hisoka automatically responded. "It verily depends on your reactions. For someone the size of Ubo or Bashou, I would hardly expect you to start quivering with pain – in fact, I'd expect that you'd puff your chest out and try to tough it out. Killua, Gon or Zuuchi on the other hand, I could carry under my arm. As to someone your size," Hisoka cocked his head to one side and regarded someone the size of Kuroro, Nobu or Hanzo for a moment in sincere thought. "I'd carry you the same way I did with Illumi if you were in mortal pain, paralyzed with it, as Illumi was." 

"I don't think either of us would become enfeebled or paralyzed by pain after hitting our toe on a rock." Wing muttered. Most people murmured similar sentiments with him on this point. Hisoka only shrugged again. 

"Well, I guess other people's tolerance for pain and threshold generally differ and vary." He said airily but it lacked conviction. 

The rest of the Hunter actors looked amongst themselves dubiously, some only grudgingly agreeing with the red head. A lone man in the background was furiously scribbling over a bit of paper, trying hard to draw the shadows to him like a smothering cloak in an effort not be seen. In the black bag beside him was the definite gleam of a camera lens, concealed, camouflaged and hidden. If they found out that a reporter had just eavesdropped on the conversations of the once perfect Kuroro and the mysteriously shady Hisoka, they'd find their equipment returned to them in separate pieces, not to mention some of their body parts too. 

So they all tucked in and enjoyed the rest of their meal, switching to a different topic for reasons of courtesy. Even Leorio could not come up with something to counter Hisoka's logic because it was, on all appearances, a reasonable enough explanation. But that didn't prevent Leorio from thinking hard during the rest of lunch to come up with something damaging to make himself look good. 

Towards the end of their meal, when they were ordering cups of coffee or another round of sweet drinks, a huge bulky figure blocked the doorway, leaving an impressive shadow in its wake. From afar, there was an intimidating presence which gradually diminished as the figure approached their long, extended table. Shalnark was the first to react, gasping in awe and honour and clung feebly onto Nobu and Feitan beside him. Kuroro and Phinx threw their co-actor some questioning looks, but it was then that Nobunaga recognized the grotesquely fat boy as Milluki – famous and successful brother of Illumi. 

Milluki wore a casual blue Hawaiian shirt featuring brightly yellow pineapples, a comfortable pair of black shorts and a pair of casual mens slippers. The sleekest, lightest and most up to date laptop was gripped firmly beneath one arm, and he carried the empty foam cup of coffee in the other. On his profusely sweating face hung a diplomatically positive smile and he approached them with the airs of one who didn't put up with crap and got right to the chase. A direct, blunt man more concerned with efficiency and getting things done than dancing around with words and making nice euphemisms. His pudgy eyes glinted with real intelligence, brimming cunning and didn't bother hiding the cogworks and wheels in the churning mind. He was scanning the actors and taking down their features and characteristics rather than politely looking at them, but he didn't bother hiding the fact. His gaze lingered particularly on Hisoka, but a cold grip of control took over and he gave himself a seat without being asked to do so. He was that kind of person. 

He forced himself to give a bright beam – and didn't care if everyone else knew that it was forced. It helped to get formalities over and done with, but it didn't mean that he had to like it. 

"I see that you're aniki's new friends – introduced to him by Mr. Silva?" 

Everyone warily gave him a nod. They all watched the fat boy look rather unobtrusively over at another table where a solitary man sat, namely in the darker corners of the restaurant and raised his glass of water to him. The man in the corner shook like a leaf in the wind, and Milluki's once friendly smile turned down right nasty. 

"Ah, Anime City," he began, loud enough for that man to hear. "It's crawling with so many undercover agents, chasing dogs and cameraman for news firms that they make the rats during the Dark Ages look like amateurs." The large boy took a huge draught from the glass then wiped his mouth unceremoniously, like he had no time for manners and had more important stuff to deal with. "But that's this city for you – always running amok with nasties and unpleasantness that it's almost an art, which perfectly suits my personality of course. Given my profession, we like to test out strengths and wits against subversives, but I do digress from my topic." 

Machi stole another glance at the dark corner and realized that the mysterious man had already disappeared. 

"Now then ladies and gentleman, lets get down to business. My name is Milluki, I'm Illumi's younger brother, who happened to read The Insider this morning. Unfortunately, my mum also happened to read the same paper and is somewhat displeased. But I don't agree with her of course – but you know my mum – her screeches put most tropical parrots to shame. Anyway, I was given the most unfortunate and unnecessary assignment – that was to clear things out with you." 

Milluki reached over to Wing's plate and stole a fistful of chips that the man had not touched. Wing liked his slimmer figure and didn't really believe in developing buns of steel. He preferred the 'intellectual' image, being one of the few actors in the industry with a legitimate university degree, hence didn't shove food in his mouth with an enthusiastic fervour like the bigger men around them. 

"However," Milluki continued hurriedly, "I'm sure Hisoka-san has a vested interest in clearing up his name, so my task has basically been completed." He suddenly stopped and gazed at them intently. Then in a much lower, confidential voice he continued. "I hope none of you take this badly against my brother. He doesn't do it on purpose – it's more like a natural defence system. You are his friend right?" he addressed the question directly at Hisoka. 

All eyes swung to the red head, the man himself balking and gawking at the question at first, finding himself at a loss as to what to say. He approached his answer with caution and tact. 

"I've known him for only a day." He began slowly. "It's kind of difficult to conclude outright that I'm going to be his friend. You must realize that the only reason I'm showing him around town is because I'm under orders from the Director. If you go on to ask whether I would have taken initiative to show him around the city under no duress or compellation, then my answer is probably no. I have enough friends already, and I certainly don't need some new guy to lag behind and cling onto my coat tails whilst I get the next fortnight to relax and enjoy myself. Does that answer your question?" 

The computer expert stared heavily at Hisoka for a short moment then curtly nodded. If you studied him closely, you might have noticed the glimmer of disappointment, or the almost silent sigh of displeasure he felt. 

"Very well then," he said, in that diplomatically neutral tone. "I hope the impact of the truth won't hit you hard. In fact, I only hope that you understand when you do find out. I have great respect for my brother, and if you so much as try to ostracize him, I will defame you so badly that suicide will be appealing. I think that we understand each other pretty clearly. Good – I have things to do, meetings to attend. Can't sit here all day can we?" 

He gave a good natured sigh and another smile at everyone, like the threat had never been uttered or passed his lips, but the smile did not reach his coldly dispassionate eyes. He heaved his great bulk and slowly lumbered away leaving a stunner and confused table of actors. Shalnark still hadn't worked up the courage to hand over the pen and paper for Milluki's autograph and pouted miserably. 

"Wow – some brother." Gon said after some time. "But what truth was he talking about? What is this talk of a 'natural defence system'? Have we unknowingly become a bunch of predators?" 

Wing pushed his glasses more firmly onto his nose and laughed out loud. How could Gon, a veteran in the acting industry, having his first Broadway appearance at the tender age of six, not know or understand what Milluki had been talking about? Why, Gon had been unconsciously practicing this whole "natural defence system" since he became involved in the business but it had never occurred to him that such conduct had a label. 

"No Gon-kun. We haven't become predators, but sometimes, people naturally consider the other people around them to be predators, just in case. Being cautious never got anyone killed, being all encompassing and friendly on the other hand, has. As you see Gon, we can never be too sure about the people around us at times, especially if we are new and don't know them well. You can never tell if someone will have ill thoughts of feelings towards you, sometimes for reasons that you and I cannot even seek to fathom. If you were to move to a new studio tomorrow and you were unfamiliar with the actors, would you be yourself around them?" 

"Of course not." Came the instant reply. "My manager Mito, curse her venomous black heart, always says that I have to make a good impression at my new place of work and to give the image that I'm a good little boy that listens to all people's orders and does not complain. As you well know, I can be quite a whinger sometimes, but I try to hide that in the first two weeks at least." 

"Blow me down, he's a fast learner, and you're a good teacher." Phinx commented, clapping Wing on the shoulder. 

"So what you are saying is," Zuuchi picked up the last trail of thought, "that Illumi-san is acting different around us because we are new to him – just as Gon would act like a good boy." 

"That question is best answered by the person who spends the most time with him." Shizuku offered, looking back to Hisoka. "So Hisoka, do you think Illumi-san is being himself?" 

The magician shook his head, dazed. "You guys seriously freak me out with the depth of your thinking and philosophies. Hell, if I spent that much time pondering the reasons behind people's each and every action all the time, I'd get no time to enjoy life." He took a deep breath and looked down into his empty glass in a manner similar to giving a confession, one filled with insecurity and unease. 

"But now that I do think about it, I am getting the slightest feeling that he's well…affecting me. Like the beach instance – I didn't really think about how I was carrying him – I just did it, and it felt right. But I could hardly picture someone like Dancho or Hanzo trembling from head to toe in pain and become so paralyzed by it that they could hardly walk. It's just…so not them I suppose. It's not within their character to become so weak and dependant. Perhaps you are putting to me that Illumi is in fact not as weak or helpless as he makes himself to be?" 

_Damn right _– Killua thought, but kept that to himself of course. It was contrary to Zoldick general principles and image to let the others know that Illumi's whole family had come over to their place just the other night for casual dinner, nor could he therefore tell them of the completely different and frighteningly dangerous character Illumi displayed. 

Wing took up the discussion again in a rather professional manner. "We notice that you are particularly nice (and you know what I mean by this word) to Illumi. Could you explain yourself properly?" 

Hisoka looked almost downright miserable now, given the probability that he had been lied to or cheated. He abused his bent and crooked straw, stabbing at the bottom of the glass with some ferocity. "Well, the first and foremost consideration is that Illumi has some special connection to the Director – and I certainly don't want to offend someone who has that type of connection. That's one reason why I have to play nice. And the second….how to put this? He just makes me act that way I guess." 

"Hang on a minute!" Gon protested. "It's not like I put on the good-boy act to cheat anyone or anything. I just do it so I can give a good impression before I settle in!" 

Wing and Killua helped to calm the main actor down. "We understand. Of course we all put on some sort of 'act' in front of new people – we are always unsure how they might respond to our personality or character." Killua patiently explained. "And when you first mix with strangers, of course you are going to be courteous and polite. It's the thing to do. But that's not saying you're totally someone you are not. We all can be polite, but maybe not twenty four seven, but it is a part of us. Cheating is too strong a word to use in this instance." 

Killua should know, Gon thought to himself. Given his upbringing in this particular line of business and following in the cold, harsh steps of his father, he would know all about putting on the right face in front of different people. They both had often tried the "angelic boy" routine whenever they got in trouble with the authorities, and that usually got them off the hook. Angelic was certainly not a word one would preferably use to describe either of them – Killua more so – and perhaps that's what Hisoka was getting at. He was deceived by Illumi-san's act, just as the police had been deceived by their angelic purity the last time Killua was caught smuggling a pack of cigarettes. They weren't planning on anything seriously, really – they just wanted to take a drag and see what it was like. He ended up choking and spluttering afterwards, then looked at the cigarette butt in disgust. His breath stank and there was a rotten taste in his mouth. Killua laughed at him, but he fared no better. 

Wing cleared his throat and deftly snatched the spotlight back to him again. 

"The first part of the explanation is that Illumi's 'image' alone makes it possible for you, Hisoka, to believe that he is entirely capable of quivering in pain. Kuroro-san and Nobu-san have worked up too much of a 'macho' and 'tough' image to let themselves succumb to pain, even if it is killing them inside. But lets face it, both you and Hanzo mistook Illumi-san to be a woman the moment you met him, so it is not unnatural that part of your mind still registers Illumi as being feminine. And this is links to the second part of the explanation – that because some part of your mind subconsciously treats Illumi as a female it also makes you act as if you're around a woman. This is further compounded by the fact that Illumi may be knowingly contributing to your subconscious behaviour with slight suggestions – a pretty pout, the flick of the hair, a low alto voice, graceful movements or even general figures of speech. This is feeding information that your subconsciousness latches onto and madly devours and before you know it, you manage to persuade yourself to think that it's perfectly natural to act the way you did, even though you really know Illumi to be a man. 

Once you've come to this understanding, you have two choices – and that is dependent on your conclusion and assessment of Illumi-san's behaviour. If you believe that he has been acting to deliberately deceive you, then by all rights you should be angry. If on the other hand you believe that Illumi-san can't help acting the way he does, then we all turn a blind eye and you keep reminding yourself that he's a man when you're around him." 

"Wing, you do realize what you are saying." Shizuku whispered softly, suddenly aware of how still and silent the restaurant had become to catch the seductively lilting words of the humble looking man whose wicked gleam in his sparkling eyes said nothing about the previously good natured and charming man. He gave a bitterly cynical laughter. 

"Yes – I know very well what I'm saying. You've either been made a fool of Hisoka, or you let yourself act like a fool. Given Milluki's whole "forgive my brother when you find out" speech, I think we all know the answer. Now Hisoka – what are you going to do?" 

Machi felt she would have been much more comfortable if Hisoka had reacted violently, smashed some glasses on the floor or crashed some plates together. Something – anything but that icy look of unreadable calm on his face. He was like that for a few moments, absorbed in a world of his own, lost in his own thinking. Then in a voice that was placid beyond reason and made all their hearts skip a beat, he spoke. 

"I'm going to rip him to shreds."   
He pushed his seat back so forcefully that they all had to clamp their hands around their sensitive ears to avoid the terrible sound of screeching. Some time after Hisoka left, Feitan spoke. 

"We really should stop him." 

"I feel no sympathy nor compassion for people who play with other people's feelings." Paku retorted. 

"But Illumi-san does have links with the Director after all, whatever they be. We should really stop Hisoka for his own sake." Kurapika stood up and urged the others to do so. When Gon and Killua followed suit, the others grudgingly followed.   


* * *

  
  


Menchi had decided – she was going to blow off all her savings on a really nice and expensive dress at Fantasia to make herself feel better. And if she could afford it, maybe two dresses. 

It was lunchtime and that guaranteed fewer people shopping and more private space to herself. No matter how hard she tried to imagine the fine satins and silks flowing like milk against her smooth skin or the delicate laces and pretty shoes, she still couldn't get the image of Hisoka and Illumi on the couch out of her head. She sternly reprimanded herself, trying to make her mind believe that The Insider was nothing but immoral gossip and that this morning had just been a misunderstanding, no matter how awkward. 

And besides, why would she care if Hisoka really did turn out being a bisexual and started seriously going out with the new guy anyway? She had plenty of suitors and admirers lining up all the way from Hunter Works to Elysian. She could have almost any straight man that she wanted and asked her angry and bitter self what there was to be so worked up about that it was worth blowing off her entire savings.   


_It's because I don't want the other men!_   


Menchi inwardly groaned. She hoped it was anything but that answer. How could one lie to one's own conscience and heart however? How could one deny something as good and pure as love? Why should one be ashamed to admit it?   


_Because he's not interested in me!_   


Damn! She was tall, she was busty, she had wild pink hair, had an exuberant and robust personality and was a great dancer. Her hips swung like no other and she never failed to become center of attention at a rave or nightclub. How many times had she rejected Midvalley and Saitou's proposals to date? Too many, that's what!   


_But you still can't compare to some guy he's met for less than 48 hours._   


Some guy! She seethed silently, her feet instantly picking up pace. She was acquainted with several gay males and to her knowledge, none of them acted or dressed like Illumi. Even though they considered themselves feminine, with the tight tops and the limp wrist, but certainly not the shy, high school girl charade. That guy was putting on some sickly diabolical act and was fooling the world, mocking it with his brilliant and perfect façade. She savoured the image of her ripping his mask away and showing a grateful Hisoka what a big fraud this new guy was. Menchi laughed bitterly – but she should have known. For anyone to be introduced by the Director and had connections with him, you certainly couldn't expect someone weak or innocent. If you were, you would have been devoured by the Director as the night snack before sleep. 

Fantasia came into view and Menchi felt like she was being embraced by the soft, cool, air-conditioned arms of a heaven free from people and dirty deceit. She was stepping into the pinnacle of glamour and fashion, the elite of the elite of society and enough styles and colours of fabric to make her squeal with delight. One eye pleasing girl in a dark navy blue uniform and a pink scarf around her neck approached her and bowed low. 

"Good afternoon Ma'am. My name is Linda – how may I help you today?" 

Menchi felt infinitely better already from the service alone. She happily babbled to the small girl with the green hair in a bobbed cut about her bad day and the kind of clothes she wanted to have a look at. Linda smiled at her every joke and suggestion. 

"I have something just perfect for what you had in mind. Our young master has just recently finished the designs for the next season and we have some prototypes. Perhaps you would be interested in having a look?" 

Prototypes? That'll mean that it's the only set of clothes available! I'll be spearheading the next season's fashion, unofficial model for Fantasia's clothes! Menchi fought to conceal her squeal of excitement and followed the sales girl towards the storeroom door open behind the counter. 

"Master? This lady here will be most suitable to wear your latest designs." Linda called out to someone rummaging inside the dark and murky room.   


After what sounded like boxes being piled one on top of the other, the person who came out coughing and spluttering from the dust shocked Menchi to the very bone and she almost drowned in depression. The haven around her shattered into a million fragments, the faceted crystal breaking apart to reveal the raging infernos of hell and the licking flames around her. The salesgirl had called him 'Master'? He ran this place? 

"Why Menchi-san, what a pleasant surprise." Illumi quickly untangled fingers from his hair and moved away from the counter to lead her to the racks with the latest items. 

"Yes….a surprise indeed." She lifted her lips into a smile that didn't reach her eyes however. Was that the devil now sitting on Illumi's shoulder, displaying a ghastly set of teeth at her? 

Illumi laughed easily. "This is actually my mother's store. She's out for lunch today, so I'm here to look after things. But most of the clothes here are designed by me." 

"Oh?" 

"Don't look so astonished Menchi-san!" Linda brightly joined in. "the young Master is really gifted. His latest collection consists mainly of deep purple, pink and silver shades with touches of dark brown velvet. It would certainly enhance the highlights of your amazing hair and features." 

"But I prefer the art of embroidery much better. Doing designs can be dreadfully dull sometimes, so I'm working to build up my own business." 

"What type of business?" Menchi asked for the sake of conversation, noticing that she was walking atop a river of bubbling lava. She was starting to feel really uncomfortable about the course of events. She was here in Fantasia to make herself feel better, vent off some steam about the whole Hisoka-Illumi debacle, but here, even in a haven where she thought she could seek sanctuary and relief has been contaminated and destroyed. 

"Dolls." Illumi said happily. But he didn't elaborate for he had deftly selected out five or six garments from the rack for her to try already. It looked as if he had almost had the items for her in mind long before she had arrived. Did he seriously design these clothes? 

"See if you like these. Since you're a friend, I'll give you a forty percent discount. Linda, please show Menchi-san to the dressing rooms." 

"Yes sir." Linda bowed again and gestured for Menchi to follow. The pink haired actress nodded, now dazed not to mention suspicious by the generous offer.   
  


Illumi heard the doors to the dressing rooms softly click shut and instantly felt sharp pains like the hard unforgiving metal of a baseball bat mercilessly attacking his head. He heard the sickening laughter again echoing loudly in his mind – the corrupted laughter of some twisted evil inside him that had been laughing and poisoning his thoughts since….   


"Master Illumi – you are looking awfully pale. Is everything all right?" Linda peered into his ashen grey face with concern. He must have looked like a walking nightmare.   


He's been laughing and toying with the world ever since he was little and recognized the man he had to call "father". He's been reading everyone and everything around him, revealing all secrets, uncovering all hidden agendas just because he could. People's body language shouted out information to him – and he took this knowledge gleefully and turned it to his advantage – sometimes, he made people pity him, made others love him, made them treat him kindly, appear to be their best friends or drove them insane. Even after his father died, Illumi still couldn't free himself of the filthy presence in his mind, pulling at his strings, controlling his actions, eroding away at his whole being of self and character. He was loosing an unwinable battle and the consequences would be that he would never find the real "him" again. Step by step, he was wading into the mud, deeper and deeper – pushed along by the tide into a prison awaiting him with its rusty arms open. And the moment he stepped in, the doors would forever clang shut, leaving him to scream his protests for the rest of an uncaring eternity. 

Inside the storeroom, he quietly recognized Menchi's voice talking to Linda the moment she stepped in. He keenly noticed that at first, there was a cautious reserve in her voice but given Linda's ability to disarm her wary customers, Menchi's shield quickly faded away to the point where she would have confessed about her crush on Hisoka to a complete stranger. He analyzed the tension when Menchi saw him exit the storeroom, the barely perceptible tightening of the muscles around the eyes, the instant smile of greeting, uncomfortable stiff hands by her side which she forced behind her back so that he couldn't see her twiddling fingers and the slight faltering in her voice. Nothing could get past him, especially the ambiguous animosity in her demeanour towards him that most people would have missed if they weren't specifically looking for it. He noted her rigid formality and obligatory words of politeness, took account of the whole 'routine' of trying to carry a conversation and concluded that Menchi would prefer to keep him at a respectful distance and had no intentions of wanting to become his friend. 

His mind then sped ahead onto the reasons why the actress would dislike him. Her reasons for hostility towards him were few – he barely knew her and was not aware of anything he said to her which would cause her to be offended. So there was no friction between them. That only left the clue of the loud kick against Hisoka's door this morning and the heaving stomping afterwards. This had been done in consequence of Menchi finding them in a compromising position this morning on the couch – so what is the reason why she would react with anger? Because she did not like to see me get close with Hisoka, Illumi's mind thought with wicked relish, the last tangles and knots in the enigma dissolving before his brutal analysis into defeated nothingness. And she does not want to see me close to him because she wants to be the one close to Hisoka. So that could only mean that she was jealous of my developing relationship with Hisoka. She was therefore jealous that Hisoka was so friendly with me and not her. 

The laughter in his mind was so loud now that his head throbbed with unbearable pain that his breathing became short and shallow and his vision was starting to dim. _People are so easy to read – so easy to predict – so easy to deal with_ – the voice sounded like a thousand nails scrapping across a blackboard. Illumi wondered if his ears were bleeding.   


_They are nothing but pawns that I manipulate on the chessboard, puppets in the puppet show. If I continue to shower her with treats and kind words and a small explanation about how there's nothing between Hisoka and I, she could become my best friend! She would adore and love me – share her secrets with me and ask me tips about how to get closer to Hisoka. And I would continue to offer her nice lies and advice – or if I really felt like it, I could ruin whatever chances Menchi might have with Hisoka for good! Oh Illumi! Isn't this just so much fun? Her entire happiness is in my hand right now – it's like a shard of crystal, so beautiful, so fragile, so** delicate.** Would you like to see me crush it? I promise you it will be exhilarating, and then you can laugh like I do._   
  


Medication – I'll silence you with my medication...>> His own conscience sounded so pathetically weak and small compared to the staggering madness.   
  


_Uh-uh Illumi – you really don't want to do that – and you know why? Because it will also hurt you too, and you know that I cannot stand to see you hurt. My sole purpose and existence is to protect you from the cruel and harsh world out there – from people who would hate you, dislike you and think adversely of you for no good reason – **just like Menchi**._   
  


Illumi winced in pain at the ever increasing crescendo of the voice and the deafening drumming of his headache.   


She's a good woman. We've just had a misunderstanding.>> Far, far away, he heard the hysterical shouts and vigorous shaking that Linda was giving him. His legs must given way and he must have collapsed. The real world was such a distant place now, his vision do dim and dull that the brilliant shower of spotlights inside Fantasia were but mere gray, fading patches. Was he hearing the diminishing and slowing thud of his own heartbeat as well?   
  


_Some misunderstanding! _The voice harshly grated, spitting with hatred and spite. _No one is ever going to hurt you or harm you whilst I'm still around. You will be alone without me – and until the day you're not alone, you cannot get rid of me. Always know that I have your interests at heart._   
  


You have no heart…>>   
  


_You'll see for yourself one day the true face of this world. There is no beauty or kindness – only ugliness that will petrify you. The world will trample on those who do have a heart. Kill or be killed – that's the cruel way in which the world works around you. Do you want to be the shark or the fish it preys upon? There is no choice in this matter – I will be the perfect predator, the shark in shallow waters. I'll be strong for the both of us._   
  


Please don't. I have no reason to hurt anyone anymore…>>   
  


_I command you to stand! Get up on your feet and give me a pleasant smile, you wretched boy!_   
  


Miraculously, his feet obeyed albeit with much effort and exertion whilst luminous colours and light gradually trickled back into his vision and sweet air rushed back into his lungs. He didn't realize that one of his arms was slung around Linda's small shoulders and that she was trying to support his weight with her petite body. 

"Master Illumi, I really think you should see a doctor." She pleaded after his determined shake of the head.   
"You had me really frightened just then. You were muttering strange things just then in a frightening tone of voice…I….I….was afraid that you were cracking from all the pressure that Boss-sama puts on you…" 

"Don't cry Linda-chan. I'll be ok. We've got help Menchi-san with her clothes right? Plenty to do – no time to cry." He sang softly and helped to her wipe away the tears trickling down her cheeks. 

"Isn't there anything I can do to help?" 

Illumi considered this offer for a moment and nodded again. "A glass of water will be nice please." 

Linda guided the man to the nearby chair and sat him down, making sure he didn't attempt to stand.   
"You sit right there and I'll immediately get you some water."   


The salesgirl ran off and Menchi was humming a jubilant tune in her change room. At that vulnerable moment when Illumi was alone, Hisoka burst into the store with murder written on his face, fingers flexing with the need to rip flesh apart. You didn't have to be a genius to figure out that Hisoka was out for your blood. 

A thousand alarm bells were madly tolling in Illumi's mind, so much so that he was deafened and could only see Hisoka silently mouthing some words at him accompanied by some forceful and energetic gestures. Natural panic was brutally suppressed by an overwhelming malevolence in his mind, so dominating that the giant bells splitting his eardrums seemed so small and insignificant in comparison with the guttural and menacing voice that left deep scars in his sanity with its mere ranting alone.   
  


**_I'll drive him insane!!! I'll have him on his knees and kiss my feet and beg for mercy!!! _**The voice screamed with unholy rage and madness.**_ I'll drive him insane – step by step, closer to the edge of never-ending abyss madness just like I did with him!_**   
  


SHUT UP!>>   
  


**_He's going to hurt you Illumi. He came here with looks suggesting that he might even kill you! Open you damn eyes and see that you new "friend" is just another fool who's too scared of Silva to say "no" to his requests. He wouldn't even look at you if Silva hadn't told him to do so. I promise you Illumi, I'll get rid of him now and you'll never miss him._**   
  


SHUT THE FUCK UP! HE'S NOT GOING TO HURT ME!>>   
  


**_Fool! Strike him now! At the end of the day, you will be the triumphant victor to stand over the fallen bodies of those you conquered, or you can give up, lie down and be trodden on without remorse, pity or sympathy for the rest of your miserable life! I WON'T LOOSE TO ANYTHING, ANYONE! NOT YOU, NOT HIM, NOT THE WORLD! I will return the pain he inflicts on me by a hundredfold!_**   
  


The voice wailed and cried like a banshee, a vengeful demon that had escaped its chains and shackles from the deepest dungeons of hell, an ethereal entity, not of this world, filled only by an ever consuming hate and anger, never dying, never living. A tortured soul howled its miseries and madness and beat against the confines of the mind like a wild and savage animal, fiercely frothing at the mouth, gnashing with its sharp and bloody teeth at anything that dared come close. It yearned to escape the long night that failed to end, a darkness so complete that no life, save the poor soul, could exist. And in the utter silent darkness, it began to brood, its mind twisted and he found that he thrived. With each bit of cruelty, with each abandonment of humanity and conscience, with each degradation and descent into sin and corruption, with each laughter at the sea of human misery around him, his will began to gather force and was able to pull the strings of the body, bending it to its desires. He began to conquer the darkness by letting darkness into what was once a bright and shining soul. And the small part of him still afraid of the darkness, still hurt by the loneliness desperately hated what he had become.   
  


"ILLUMI! GET OF HIM!" Kuroro roared, pulling with Ubo and Bashou with all their might but Illumi would not budge. 

Hisoka wheezed and choked, unable to move his arms for they had been pinned down by Illumi's knees. Nobu and Phinx tried to help ease the pressure around his throat by each tugging at one pale hand crushing Hisoka's windpipe. 

"Leorio, Kurapika!" Ubo turned his great big head to the two bystanders gaping in horror. "Give us a hand. Run to us from Illumi's left and give us all a hip-and-shoulder. Maybe we could topple his balance and make him let go!" 

Both Leorio and Kurapika didn't bother arguing or protesting. They looked at each other, nodded with determination, then sprinted towards Bashou's back, launching themselves at him like human canon balls released from the barrel by a truckload of gunpowder. 

Bashou howled in pain and hit his head against the left of Illumi's jaw, driven forward by the momentum. Leorio and Kurapika literally rebounded off the muscular man's back and tightly hugged their stinging shoulders. And Illumi only wavered slightly but did not fall over. 

Kuroro grunted with frustration "Urgh! Why didn't I think of this earlier? Ubo, Bashou," he directed rapidly, "you each slip one arm around Illumi's waist. Then with your other hand, you're going to support underneath his thigh. Yes, that's right – don't look at me like that look – we're going to lift him up instead of push him off. Ready – one – two – three – UP!" 

It worked! With Phinx and Nobunaga already weakening Illumi's hold over Hisoka's throat, the hands snapped free of the neck and Illumi was thrown at least three feet away. And thankfully, his crumpled form did not move. 

Menchi and Paku immediately knelt down beside Hisoka and began to pat his back, helping him gain his breath back. But Hisoka didn't even know the women were there. His head and vision was swimming and his sense of balance momentarily distorted by the distinct lack of air that had been forcefully driven from his lungs. He was intently staring at Illumi's body sprawled out just a meter or so away from him, muttering obscenities and curses. It was the only thing he could do before he succumbed to hysterical fear, for he caught the briefest glimpse of a greater cruelty lurking inside Illumi – the kind of cruelty that was capable of laughing in utter glee as children were beheaded around him. It made him so sick with fright that his lunch was desperately clamouring to escape and blood pounded ceaselessly into his head, affected by the adrenaline rush. He had to activate his mechanisms of control – anything but submit to the unparalleled fear of the experience. 

"Fucking mad animal – he's got rabies or something." 

Hisoka was helped to his unsteady feet by Nobunaga and Wing. 

"Thank god we did decide to follow you. What did you do to him this time?" Ubo scowled, panting heavily. 

"Nothing!" the magician immediately snapped. "I did nothing! I was about to confront him about the things we said over lunch, and before you knew it, he sprang at me like a fucking mad dog! Straight for my fucking throat and wouldn't let go." 

Linda angrily stalked up to Hisoka and gave him a good sharp kick to the shins however causing him to howl in pain and hop around on the one foot. Even though she could be described as short, small or petite and had a disposition to look delicate, she knew how to give a good kick and put on an intimidating presence with a pair of fiery blue eyes to match. 

"You stormed in here raving and shouting threats! I saw you grip the front of Master Illumi's shirt and you were about to punch him before he acted in self defence!" 

"SELF DEFENCE?!" Hisoka's voice went up several octaves from the sheer outrageousness of the proposal, one hand still tenderly rubbing at his sore throat. "Five grown men couldn't even push him off! You call that self defence?!" 

"Don't give me that crap!" Linda hissed back, still unafraid of Hisoka's looming figure. "You came in here looking for a fight. I'm telling you right now that this store does not welcome you. Now leave before I call police." She said severely. 

And the entrance to Fantasia loudly banged open again, and everyone snapped to attention and some even clacked their heels at the looks of a very demanding and scowling woman, followed by the man they feared even more – Director Silva Zoldick. 

"Boss-sama!" Linda implored to Kikyou immediately, "Master Illumi is not responding. 

"Why is my shop almost in ruins?! And what is Illumi doing on the floor? Illumi! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Kikyou asked whilst she dispassionately walked to her son's side with a dark frown. She didn't particularly want Silva to see any of this, especially Illumi in this embarrassing and humiliating state. 

Silva glared at them all with the keen eyes of an eagle. He spotted one boy incapable and unable to form a lie and motioned for him to step forward. Kurapika tried hard not to screw up his face in terror and stepped forward, like a man with no future, about to be executed. 

"Kurapika, tell me everything that has happened." Silva's voice was like a sword sliding out of its sheath, so seductively and falsely harmless in tone but in fact very deadly. 

Having no choice or brain cells to come up with an alternative story, the blonde haired boy began from the last peaceful moments they spent together at TGIs and at length dwelt on the details of getting Illumi off Hisoka. All of this was absorbed by Silva without a blink, his eyes still harshly inspecting and glaring at all of them. Even when Kurapika was done, he reacted like he still did not hear the news. He picked at Leorio's messy and tangled suit, Nobu's wild and untidy hair (Kuroro likewise) and scowled at the bruise on Bashou's forehead. 

He then stood beside the crouched figure of Kikyou and peered over her shoulder to see long silken black hair sprawled messily about the floor. "Is Illumi all right?" 

Kikyou threw her hands up in exasperation. "I don't know what's wrong with him. He's got this idiotic vacant expression on his face and is muttering something that I don't understand." 

"Perhaps he's in shock." Silva mildly suggested and knelt down to inspect for himself. He gave Illumi's shoulder a rough squeeze. "Illumi – are you in pain?" 

His reply was faint, wan and ghostly. It sounded distant, detached. "Not really sir, I don't feel pain." 

"I beg your pardon?" Silva stoutly asked. "I missed the last part." 

Illumi gradually pushed himself up and managed a small, wry smile. "I thank you for your concern. But being manhandled and thrown for a full meter is definitely not something you experience everyday. Defying gravity for that short moment was…different. I'm ok." 

"But what was that fight about?" Kikyou frowned, still verily displeased with her son's behaviour. 

Illumi blinked innocently at her. "Fight?" What fight?" he gave a silver laugh filled with amusement. The actors still standing at attention looked uneasily amongst themselves and dreaded what would happen next. Illumi gave Hisoka a small smile and a giggle then continued.   
"Hisoka wanted me to perform this maneuver on him that he couldn't neutralize this morning. So I did it again and invited his friends to see if they could get me off. They tried all sorts of ideas, but Kuroro-san finally came up with a solution to lift me up – which is the correct method." 

"So there was no fight?" 

"No kaa-san. Do I look like the person to get myself into fights?" 

Silva firmly nodded. "I'll take your word for it then. That matter is settled then. Kikyou, I'll be returning to my office to meet with the editor. See you tonight." 

Kikyou waited until Silva had left before turning her full attention back on Illumi. 

"**_Wrestling in my store?! _**The nerve of you Illumi! AHHHH! Young man! Where do you think you're going?" 

Illumi had picked himself off the ground, dusted himself and walked off in the general opposite direction.   
"I've got to meet some contacts. They're interested in my plans and ideas." 

"Are you still thinking about your useless dolls? Stop fooling around Illumi, you should be helping mama design clothes and run the store!" 

"How many times have I told you? I can make my dolls AND design the clothes." 

"You will not speak to me in that tone!" Kikyou hissed and dragged Illumi into the far corner of the store away from the rest of the idling actors.   
"You will not humiliate me in front of your peers. Now listen to me – " 

"I've got to go home and get ready. I'll see you tomorrow morning." Illumi forced his way out of the corner and hurriedly left the store. Everyone gave him plenty of room as he passed. 

Kuroro bravely took a stab to break the silence. 

"Well Kikyou-dono, I guess us men will leave the women to their business." 

Kikyou blinked a few times before a pleasant smile formed on her face. 

"Of course," she said in a friendly voice that dripped sweet honey. "Linda dear, be a good girl and show the gentlemen out. Now ladies, let see what I can do for you all." 

Machi turned to the door just as the men were leaving. 

"Remember – tonight – 7pm – Elysian – level 6!" she called. 


	8. Chapter 8: Karaoke night Saturday school

**Chapter 8**

_A night out at the Karaoke and Saturday School._

**7pm – Elysian, Level 6**

Hanzo was engaged in a staring contest with an unwavering and impassive steward, the type that bowed down low enough as customer service required, but never an inch lower. The steward was middle aged, slender at the waist, well groomed but starting to bald. However, he carried himself about with dignified arrogance, and because of his height, he constantly looked down on the guests that came and went. Hanzo was tall, but the waiter was taller, and the ninja didn't appreciate being looked down on. 

"We've got bookings." He said flatly. 

"I realize that." The steward responded with equal coolness. 

"And no – we are not going to be shifted." 

Veize looked boredly at the rest of the women and tapped her feet impatiently on the golden marble floor of the Elysian reception. From the looks of things, there appeared to be a lot of people in Function Room B tonight. When Hanzo made the bookings on Monday, they had anticipated on a relatively vacant room, and if they were lucky, the room all to themselves, however, it seemed now that Function Room B would be, for lack of a better word, packed. 

"You will not be shifted, sir," the steward spoke again in a tone that was just above cutting, but only just so "but your dinner tables will be designated tonight and singing order and arrangement will take place by ballot." 

The ninja's vein burst. "By ballot? We've paid full price for this AND made the booking at least a week ago!" 

A delicate eyebrow on the waiter's impassive face archly lifted. "There were clauses in the transaction contract that made provisions for such contingent conditions. There is nothing we can do except that if you are dissatisfied, we can of course give you another time slot on another day." 

Hanzo scowled but declined to pursue the matter further with the rude iceblock. He sniffed with a great amount of disdain and stalked back to the large gathering of Hunter Actors. There, he succinctly briefed them down on the situation. 

"So exactly how many people will be in the room tonight?" Phinx frowned irritably at the news. 

"The rude prick said the room was going to be full tonight – so lets expect the worst and assume that there's going to be at least forty people." 

Everyone simultaneously groaned out loud and made protests, filling the foyer with a buzz of noise. Some people quietly stopped to observe the uproar whilst the other attendants and bell hops glanced at each other with expressions of hopelessness, then ducked their heads down and pretended that they did not see anything. 

"Enough with the clamour. It's not like everyone's going to be able to sing tonight anyway with the numbers so lets stop complaining about not wanting strangers to know that our vocal skills are comparable to that of a squirrel and get a move on." 

People begrudgingly accepted Shalnark's ushering and made their way up to the sixth floor.   
  


Function Room B was a stylish karaoke room with its own elevated platform stage complete with stage lights, a manual spotlight, and enough tables and chairs to fit fifty people. Currently, all the lights were on and the room was bright with the ceiling marked in the center by a glittering crystal chandelier. After eight thirty, the chandelier would be shut off along with most of the spotlights and the ones tracing the edge of the ceiling would dim, leaving only the stage as the sparkling jewel and center of attraction. But for now, you could see that the carpet was of a dark blue hue, immaculate and spotless. The tables were draped with starched white cloths with the cutlery already placed in pedantically neat and meticulous order. Later, when the lights diminished, the tables and chairs would also be removed, only to be replaced with low round tables and fabulously comfortable couches. It was a good way to end a busy week. 

The Hunter group totaled twenty and they separated into groups of five for dinner. The other empty tables were first occupied by a group of strangers – new people to town that they had not seen much or heard of. There were around ten of them, a peculiar sort of clique for they shared almost nothing in common with each other – that was, in terms of height and size. 

The "leader" of them all was a boy around twenty or twenty one, with long spiky hair roughly tied by a dirty string tightly at the nape of his neck. He bore an expression of supreme confidence and good humor but his grin frequently turned a bit too wicked and nasty for his peers' liking. The other boy at his side, around the same age as him, seemed over eager and hyperactive much to the distaste of his peers. He was embarrassing them all with his gushing, gasps and exclamations concerning the lavish luxuries around him. Most impressive of the group was a woman, almost two meters tall with golden bronzed skin and well toned muscles. On her head was a short crop of blood red hair and she spoke and laughed the loudest of them all. 

"They must be the actors of the new establishment." Neon leaned over and whispered in her sister's ear. 

"You mean Galaxy Institute?" Shizuku joined in, although her eyes never left the newcomers. 

Machi glanced at them from the corner of her eye. "So they're the ones who are doing the remake of Heroes of Galaxy Wars. I bet that kid there with the long black hair pinned back in a ponytail is going to take the lead role. Look at the way he sits, and look at the way the others treat him. He's like an emperor beholding his subjects." 

"That white haired guy beside him is kinda cute." Neon blushed as she stole another glance and hurriedly looked away again. Her sister gave her a big smack on the back. 

"My little sister is all grown up! She's starting to form assessment and analysis of boys!" she beamed happily, and loudly for the nearby tables to hear. Several chuckles floated around in response. Neon wanted to hide under the table from her embarrassing sister. 

Machi looked around. On their table sat Menchi and her kid sister, Shizuku, Ponzu and herself. Paku was hanging around Dancho _again_, and Veize had quickly popped out to have a ciggy. They had reserved a space for her at Bashou and Senritsu' "Nostrad Bodyguards" table. Machi couldn't avert her gaze from the man seated languidly beside Kuroro – Hisoka, and in particular the faint markings of a bruise around Hisoka's neck. She bit down on her lip and nearly drew blood as the events from the afternoon replayed itself again and again in her mind, forcing her to relive the horror and panic she felt, or the frenzied urge that gripped her and almost compelled her launch herself against the psychotic new guy in order to save Hisoka. Illumi had been serious about killing Hisoka, and seeing the magician helplessly pinned to the ground whilst his lungs were screaming in pain almost made her loose control of herself. _That_ sensation was totally unexpected. 

Hisoka had once been good friends with her brother Legato, and he often frequented and stayed over at their house when they were much younger. Back then, when she was still a young teenager sporting a pair of pigtails and a sailor uniform, her lanky and skinny brother and Hisoka were already prowling through the city nightclubs, turning them over one by one and wobbling back home leaning on each other in the wee hours of the morning. 

"You're going to be a pretty girl when you grow up Machi." He babbled mindlessly one night to her in his drunken stupor. She distinctly remembered that she was trying to study for a French test the next morning and Legato's usual bunch of his friends had come over to lounge around in their living room, draining cans of beer faster than water leaking out of a sieve. 

"And if anyone says otherwise, I'll thump them for you." That said, he stumbled off to pester his other friends. 

She knew he was drunk, but even for that one small moment, it felt warm and fuzzy that someone would compliment her. At home, it was always Legato this, Legato that – living in the shadow of a dashing and handsome brother was such an unwanted burden. She had to be rid of the name "Legato's little sister" and make something for herself. 

"Machi?" 

She was shaken out of her own reminiscence by Menchi. 

"What is it?" 

"Look! Your brother has arrived – along with the rest of the Ex Club." 

She registered a groan whilst all the other people, even the group from Galaxy Institute, perked up with interest and curiosity. 

Ex Club was _the_ men's group – if you were somebody, you would want to become initiated into this semi secret and shady sect, Ex simply short for "Exclusive". Tonight, the leaders of the Club were gathered here and their appearance alone set whispers and gossips off immediately. Dressed in their trendy name brand clothes, sharp suits or sheer overwhelming individualism, the elite of the elite, the men of all men, casually threw a smile and even gave a wave at the other actors about them before they took their seats for dinner. 

The group of nine leaders of Ex Club consisted of Legato, the well known party animal from Planet Gunsmoke; Abel the arrogantly cold man from Graude Foundation; Yomi the blind but successful entrepreneur from Reikai Motion Pictures along with the ever silent but equally alluring Karasu; Alucard, a dashing and cavalier type of man who gained instant popularity from the preview trailers of Hellsing alone; the cruel and calculating Xelloss from Slayers Corp, always full of pranks and practical jokes; and Bunnchu, a quiet and reserved type of man yet never found wanting from Houshin. 

"I wonder why they are here," Menchi giggled, almost insanely as she eyed each and every man with her long eyelashes battering heavily at the same time. Machi had to suppress another look of disdain at her co-worker's lack of discipline in front of gorgeous, handsome, deliciously beautiful…..gah! her mind was threatening to run off with the eye candy and engage in uncharacteristic bouts of swooning! 

Thankfully, the food was quickly served and the aromas from the food stole their senses away. The waiters and waitresses busily meandered around them in their black uniforms like studious ants. Knives and forks were raised and the general din of conversation soon pervaded the air. Xelloss flicked aside his glossy purple hair and smirked at a certain pink haired girl whom he recognized as Menchi's shy and timid kid sister quickly stealing glances at him. She caught his smirk and instantly turned red and hastily retreated to awkwardly bringing her spoon of soup to her mouth. He laughed lightly and adjusted the cuffs of his purple satin shirt, rolling them up so they wouldn't be dirtied. He swung his menacing violet eyes to the rest of his friends. 

"Of all places we could meet, why at some mirthless karaoke club?" he sneered casually, pushing his food around the plate with his silver fork, studying it through pursed and contemptuous lips. 

"I swear I've been to graveyards that were livelier than this place." 

"Always the one to complain, Xelloss." Abel slowly chewed and swallowed, washing down the steak with a mouthful of red wine. "Where do you think we are right now? This is Elysian – there is no where else to go in Anime City." 

"But of course for you Abel, any place is better than Graude Foundation. We all have heard about your never ending tales involving Athena, the most monstrous brat to ever grace the earth with its presence."   
  
  
  
  
  


Killua sneezed. He rubbed his nose and wondered if the air conditioning was put on too high. 

"You want to borrow my jacked Killua?" Gon asked, pointing to his garment draped on the back of his chair. 

The white haired boy shook his head, declining the offer (for the jacket clashed with his own clothes) and went back to eating.   
  
  
  
  
  


"Put a sock in it Legato" Xelloss scowled "you know what I'm talking about. If you wanted to spend a night screaming your throat raw, we could do it in the more private and exclusive rooms on the upper levels. I'm asking why we have to share with such….commoners." 

Yomi gave a small, but perceptible sigh. "The noise is hurting my ears, but I can second guess at why Legato and Bunnchu would suddenly find the urge to mix with the not so trendy." 

"Oh really?" Legato's smile widened almost impossibly and he raised his crystal decanter to his lips but did not drink. His golden eyes glimmered brilliantly as he stared at Yomi from the rim of the glass, a predatorial gaze, quietly watching, waiting for signs of weakness. 

"My wife read me _The Insider_ this morning and described some of the pictures featured in it and I must say that I was most surprised. It seems that our other often missing-in-action member has finally found someone that he wants to settle down with. And I also happen to know that the actors from Hunter Works have also made bookings for this room tonight – and I'm thinking that these two events can't be mere coincidence, right Bunnchu?" 

The blonde man gave a chuckle and smiled, displaying a perfect row of white, pearly teeth. 

"Ah – can we ever hide anything from the all seeing Yomi-sama?" he jested. "You guessed correctly. Hisoka's just three tables away from us, and he's eyeing us with some degree of suspicion, along with our other gracious member Kuroro who frequents our meetings even less than Hisoka these days. Daichi was at Fantasia this afternoon, where most of the actresses from Hunter Works were also shopping – and she managed to pick up another bit of gossip." 

"Stop snickering Legato, you're going to ruin our surprise. Hurry up and fill us in." 

"Why Abel, you're impatient tonight. You fancy Hisoka's new lady too?" 

"I fancy no one." Abel replied easily. 

"Good – because this "Illumi" is not really all **he** appears to be." 

"He?" the rest of them now perked up with curiosity, except Yomi's implacable calm and unruffled disposition could not be disturbed, even if you told him that the roof was caving in all about them, and Karasu's grin only broadened. Abel kept his scowl carefully hidden from the two and put on a neutral expression, but in his mind he made a mental note that Karasu and Yomi's information network must be more extensive than his. Time to work at spreading his contacts around the city again. 

Legato took over the story telling, frequently catching Hisoka's eye and giving him the all-knowing look the betrayed the subject matter – namely him and his new infatuation. 

"Yes – Illumi is the eldest son of the owner of Fantasia. People at the gym a few nights ago heard Hisoka complain about how he had to chaperone Illumi around the city under President-cum-Director Silva Zoldick's orders. Rumors are circulating that a man who has had almost no experience whatsoever in acting will have a small part to play in Hunter x Hunter." 

"President Silva is noted to be a strict and severe man who demands nothing but the best." Alucard finally spoke up. "Although the cast for Hunter x Hunter may seem a bit…odd, mismatched and ill fitted, they are all actors of great potential. I can hardly see any legitimate reason why President Silva would allow a newbie to join the production, even if it's only for a small role." 

Legato snapped his fingers. "That's exactly what's interesting. And also the story from _The Insider_ today. I'm guessing that Hisoka must have copped a big and unhappy notice of demand this morning from his fellow co-actors as well." 

Karasu shook his head, his fine, shoulder length black hair swaying with his movements, caressing the shoulders of his finely cut and no doubt expensive jacket. He put down his glass of wine and sighed deeply, disapprovingly. 

"I swear Legato, you're turning into such a bitch," he smirked at the instant anger that surfaced on Legato's face and ploughed on. "I mean, look at you here, dragging us all the way into some low grade karaoke bar for what? To spy on another member of the club? To speculate on some wild and unverified rumors? Really, I would have thought that a sloth had the right idea about wasting time, but now it seems you have perfected this skill into an art." 

"There's no need to be so harsh Karasu." Yomi murmured reproachfully, but there was a small, amused smile tugging at his lips. 

"Both of you seem to have extra information that we are not aware of. Care to share?" Xelloss yawned. 

Karasu shrugged. "I don't know about Yomi's source, but I sure do have my own, and that's the only reason why I came here tonight." He caught the nearby waiter's attention. "Two more chairs for this table, and bring those two over!" 

The waiter shied away from Karasu's penetrating violet eyes and hastily signaled to the other waiters to bring the chairs whilst he went to fetch Kuroro and Hisoka. 

"Hisoka-sama….Kuroro-sama….Karasu-sama would like a word with both of you." He stammered. 

The two Hunter actors excused themselves and sauntered over to the extra large table especially reserved for the Ex Club members. 

"We come here and you don't even say Hi to us?" Bunnchu began with mock disapproval. He poured drinks for the two and gestured for them to sit. 

"Before anyone shoots their mouth off with stupid questions – I've got a message to deliver to Hisoka." 

Hisoka looked at Karasu quizzically. 

"Lola told me to pass this on to you – and her exact words were – "I've dealt with it." That's all." 

Both Kuroro and Hisoka's minds recollected the events from the night before at Starlight Club where a spiked drink had Illumi rushed to the hospital. What Lola presumably meant was that she had hunted the culprits down and dealt retribution. They let out understanding 'ahs'. 

"There – I've made my peace. You can all say what you will." 

Kuroro leaned towards Karasu to speak almost in a conspiratorial manner to ask something that had been nagging on his mind for the past couple of weeks. "Where is your brother these days? I've hardly seen him around." 

Karasu carefully hooked a few stray strands of hair behind his ears, his expression unusually rigid. 

"My wonderful twin brother has recently found a new "Master" whom he just respects and adores. It's such a horrifying thought that I don't want to even think about it." 

Abel's cutlery fell from his limp hands to clatter noisily against his plate. "Salar – your pompous, haughty, arrogant intellectual maniac of a twin brother has found someone to look _up_ to? News flash – existence of God has been confirmed because I swear that apart from God, Salar would not deign to look upon anyone else, and sometimes, I even wondered if he would respect a higher power at all, given his absolute confidence in his intelligence." 

"It's not like his Master is unknown to us," Karasu's voice now took on an unprecedented amount of steel. "Salar has pledged his lifelong services to one entity called "Vallanor". It's big I tell you, huge, massive. Its power base is situated in Europe and America and it's rolling this way, under the head of one mysterious Lord Vallissa." 

The expression on Alucard's face was grim. "Damn – where have I heard of Vallanor before?" 

"You mean the same corporation that was trying to buy us out and offered to be our patron?" Yomi snarled with disgust. He had the last messenger from Vallanor bodily removed from his office and thrown onto the streets during the last meeting they had. 

"Try to buy us out with a lot of money indeed. Didn't they offer to name the largest nightclub down in Tartarus after you, Legato? It's amazing you refused that offer." 

"Don't look at me like that Karasu. I'm still a man of dignity and principles. I wouldn't sell my soul for money, and you know that." Legato gave them all a pained and injured look. Kuroro's face was pale. 

"And I used to think the same of Salar as well. Given his brainpower, I would have thought that he could make as much money as he wanted, if he really tried. Now, he's sold himself to some foreign power. Has anyone made any checks on this 'Lord Vallissa'?" 

"I wouldn't suggest it." Karasu leaned back on his chair to gaze miserably at the ceiling, squinting his eyes from the bright lights. "You all know how Lola somehow manages to find the space in her heart to love Salar like a brother more than I can. I'm dreading the day that Salar draws my wife into his Vallan ranks to help him conquer the world on behalf of his Lord. If that happens, I don't know what will happen to my allegiances. Right now, Lola is on a temporary contract with Vallanor to maintain the firewalls around Vallanor's internal networks. I'm sure you are all impressed by her computer prowess. No one can get through something that she sets up, and it would be painful to try." 

"You don't say." Xelloss mused. "But it's hardly a matter to bother ourselves with at this time of night. We'll deal with Salar at a later date. For now, lets stick to the original topic please. I want to hear about Hisoka-chan's new love." 

All blood left the magician's face and whilst he sought to quell his shivers, he couldn't stop his hand flying up to massage the traces of bruise on his throat that would become more evident the following morning in the form of several ugly, bluish purple marks around his throat. 

"I can hear Salar's cold and mocking laughter now if he ever found out how foolishly I had been tricked and manipulated by that man. If Salar were here, he would have instantly exposed the big charade that had me completely fooled for a good 28 hours or so." 

Legato's smile widened into a maniacal glee. "We want to hear _everything_."   
  
  
  


"Gees, I wonder what they're talking about." Leorio couldn't stop looking at the group of men he so enviously wanted to be a part of. One of the biggest reasons why Kuroro and Hisoka were able to flaunt their leadership and power in the social circles was because they belonged to the elite mens club that all other males would do anything to be admitted into. The large table of them now ate and drank with cynical smiles on their faces, jesting, leering, possibly abusing each other's self esteem and having the time of their lives, knowing that everyone couldn't help but be attracted to everything they represented. 

"They probably want first hand material on all that has happened to Hisoka for the past day and a half, right from the moment Hisoka kissed Illumi to the little incident this afternoon at Fantasia." Wing kept his eyes strictly ahead or on his plate of food and was determined not to let the Ex Club have the satisfaction of knowing just how he envied or admired them – if he did at all – but fame was a precarious treasure in the acting industry and was something that you did not say "no" to lightly if offered to you on a silver platter. 

On the same table, Franklin added "I like the looks of Buunchu's new coat. That must have cost a little fortune. If that's what the next season's fashion is heading towards, I'm afraid my pockets will hurt." He was referring to the midnight blue jacket that Bunnchu had arrived in – light, slightly fitted and trimmed with the most gorgeously soft and wonderful snow white fur on the collar and sleeves. Although it was Summer in Anime City, for someone with Buunchu's confidence, he could pull anything off and make almost anything look good. 

"I don't appreciate killing baby seals to adorn my fashion thank you." Wing said stiffly and took another bite out of his bread roll. "And Franklin, you have been missing for most of the week, appearing for your shots only when you need and disappearing without a trace afterwards. We could have used your mighty strength in several situations." 

The big man waved a massive hand in dismissal. "Baby's sick at home and my other young son is getting jealous of all the attention his little brother is receiving. My wife has just about reached breaking point – she can't handle the baby's wailing or my son's incessant screaming contemporaneously. So I gotta find whatever time I can to get that little tyke out of the house so his mother can look after the baby in some peace and quiet." 

"God damnit Franklin! You're not supposed to ruin the blissful image of fatherhood with stories like that!" Leorio grimaced. 

"What? You think that having a baby or child is like having a dog who will sit when you command, that you can lock outside the house whenever you are angry? Hell no – they are the boss and you are nothing but the expendable slave who can only get three hours sleep per night _if_ you lucky." 

"Lets all raise our glasses to salute the great and devoted family man Franklin." Wing muttered solemnly and raised his glass. The rest of the people on the table followed suit. 

The world was divided into two types of people – ones like Legato or Hisoka, so far fetched from earthly troubles and responsibilities, like kites whose strings have snapped and are now soaring, without masters or attachments in the boundless and limitless sky. They were like demi gods who had it all – beauty, fame, fortune, power. And then there were people like Franklin who had already started a small family and had to deal with the most basic and menial chores such as sick children and their tantrums. Two very different worlds indeed. 

There was the graceful broadcast of a three note arpeggio from a xylophone signifying the end of the dinner, noting that it was eight thirty. Phinx wiped the corners of his mouth daintily and graciously stood up to allow the caterers to first remove their plates, cutlery, the table cloth and finally the chairs and tables themselves. He was then, like everyone else, given a piece of plastic the size of a business card with a particular number engraved in bold black. This was quickly followed by another army of caterers with soft, plush couches and low wooden round tables in which desserts were served on silver platters and a single, fat candle placed on the center of everyone's table and lit. All the lights dimmed accordingly so that much of the room was covered in the shroud of darkness save for the weak light offered from the flickering cande flame. Only the stage was still brightly lit in an artificial white light, slightly smokey (the fog machine gave the odd cough now and then) and there was one single polished black high stool in front of a small screen for music selection and beside it a microphone resting invitingly on a purple velvet cushion trimmed with golden tassels. 

"You attention please." One eye pleasing young man took up the microphone to address the gathering of actors. 

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. As you are well aware, tonight, due to the numbers, singing order will proceed by ballot. The computer will first generate fifteen numbers, and patrons will proceed to come on stage when their number is displayed." 

"Yeah yeah – get off the stage!" someone shouted. 

"Of course. Have an enjoyable evening ladies and gentleman." The ruffled and distressed young man was pleased to be off stage to shrink and hide in some desolate niche.   
  
  
  
  
  


"Ooh! Chocolate sundae!" Gon exclaimed, throwing himself onto the couch and digging into the ice cream with his spoon. "Can I have seconds?" 

"You haven't even finished your first yet and you're asking for seconds already?!" Shalnark exclaimed. 

"Bah – I'll have three helpings if they will allow." Killua grinned happily. "By the way Gon – what time are you leaving tonight? I'm going at twelve thirty. I can give you a lift home." 

"Gee thanks! I've got my mobile phone shut off, so either my Manager will storm in here to give me a lecture why my phone should be on at all times, or I'll get my ears chewed off tomorrow morning for getting home late. Either way, I'm not stepping out of this place until midnight." 

"Good for you. It's not like we're Cinderella or anything." 

"But don't you kids have school the next morning?" 

"Oh for goodness sakes Shal! Quit it! After everyone rocked up to class two hours late, they've officially changed Saturday school times to ten in the morning. If we get back by one, we'll still get at least seven hours sleep, and that's plenty already." 

Shal and Feitan both shook their heads disapprovingly and thought best not to argue with the son of the President of Hunter Works. They enjoyed their ice cream and unobtrusively tuned into the conversations of the Ex Club on the row of couches beside them.   
  
  
  


"Yomi – shut your eyes! You know you can barely see, what are you looking for anyway?" Hisoka grunted with irritation. He winced as the familiar burning sensation seared his throat – the whisky was strong tonight. 

"My wife is supposed to be here now. How's she going to find me in the dark?" 

Xelloss sighed. "We'll help you look for her then. Would you like me to make a banner saying "Yomi, your dearest and most cuddly husband, is right here"?" 

The others burst out laughing. It was well known that Yomi was damn possessive and attentive of his wife and had been voted by _Vanity Fair_ as the 'best husband' for four years running. It was not all without merit of course, for he was indeed a good husband – he never forgot Mistress' birthday, never forgot his son's birthday, never failed to lavish her with a truckload of crimson red roses on Valentines day and for Mother's day, he took the whole family for a seven day cruise on their own private yacht around the Caribbean islands. In short – he loved his wife to bits. 

Yomi blushed furiously and tried to hard it by scowling menacingly and downing his shot of vodka in a hasty gulp. 

Abel's drawling voice cut through. "But I always thought that women wanted more freedom and didn't want their partners checking up on them every half an hour." 

"I do NOT check on my wife every half an hour!" Yomi indignantly replied. 

Xelloss' grin widened. "Oh yeah? Then who were you on the phone to just half an hour ago?" 

"That…" Yomi began to stutter. "She doesn't mind it – in fact, she happens to think it's cute….GAH! Why am I sharing this with you irresponsible slobs?" the volume of his voice dramatically rose. 

"Hey, I'm married and I have a son too." Karasu muttered darkly. "Are you saying that I'm irresponsible?" 

"Same for me." Xelloss added. 

"You have no right to speak on this matter Xelloss. Your relationship with your wife is always on the rocks! Aren't you two not speaking to each other again?" 

The purple trickster's face turned incredibly sour. "I'd divorce her if it weren't for our manipulative son who threatens to run far, far away from home if we were to ever split or separate. Xelan, the little monster, knows that we both love him to bits and he's using that against us and forcing us to stay together." 

Alucard poured Xelloss another drink. "Is your son still going to that Saturday school for child actors? I hear he's a genius." 

"Yeah – he still goes because he should mingle with the actors of his generation. We don't want them turning out to be like Kuroro von Drosgen right? And thank god Legato redeemed you might I just add." 

The pale skinned, ebony haired actor grimaced a bit. "You have made a good choice. I was lonely as a kid, and my siblings weren't the greatest company either. Being able to go to school would have made a better human out of me instead of those prune-faced tutors who look like they've got a broom handle shoved up their ass." 

"What about your little devil Karasu?" 

He grunted at Buunchu's question. "Kaéry is good. I think his recent bout of rebellion has been quelled ever since his grandpa has come to visit. He's found someone else to pick on with his almighty genius intellect. He used to be a lot quieter when Salar was around because he knew he could never outsmart him, but ever since Salar took off for another country on his Master's errands, Kaéry's gone literally mad." 

"Gee, isn't it such a burden to have a prodigy as a son. Pardon me, but isn't the common reaction to such a wonderful child be an outburst of pride and fatherly love?" 

Both Xelloss and Karasu shivered visibly and desperately reached for their drinks. 

"And how's Shura-kun these days? His brief appearance in YYH has earned him enough young girls raving about just how absolutely and adorably cute he is. Fame isn't getting to his head is it?" Kuroro refilled Yomi's glass. The blind man silently thanked him with a nod and like Karasu, grimaced. 

"No, he's a good kid – but Mistress has a better time taming him than I do. His arrogance and ego is skyrocketing, and there isn't much I can do to prevent it from happening. I mean, I am successful, Mistress is successful, and he's the son of two very successful parents. What's there NOT to brag about? Problem is, he's proving to be a _bit_ too rash, not to mention stupid, and he's becoming quick to anger. Have I also mentioned how he's turned his karate lessons almost into an obsession?" 

"Obsession?" they all echoed. 

"Yeah, obsession. Ever since he found out that he could hurt people with karate, and that when people are hurt, they tend to agree with whatever he says, he's been practicing day and night – first it was those five kilometer runs in the morning, next he convinced his mother that having a proper coach and dietician was good for a growing boy – so he's eating ultra healthy foods now, then he's off to gym every afternoon to boost his strength and stamina with some sort of program that his coach set up for him. In short, his punches and kicks are _hard_ and I'd so wish he'd spend more time with his studies." 

"You mean he's turning into a bully?" Legato rephrased bluntly. 

"Exactly." Yomi spat out his ice back into the glass in disgust at the numbing coldness in his mouth. 

Karasu looked at Xelloss. "We really should introduce Shura to Kaéry and Xelan – the three of them would make a great team. Because wherever my son goes, there's a trail of angry kids who he has insulted or offended with that mouth of his right behind him. He could use some backup." 

"True, true." Xelloss murmured. 

"My son is not a musclehead for hire!" Yomi clamped down on his anger and spoke in a more calm and controlled manner. "But mixing him with your sons would be good – it'll show him that you can get by in this world without having to knock people's teeth out. Xelan and Kaéry will impress him – they're all about the same age. He needs a bit of competition and something to go up against." 

"Hey, look who's here." Alucard gave a cheerful wave. The other men all turned around to look towards the doorway and spotted one tall, slender woman with a gorgeous hour shaped figure and cascading tresses of raven black hair at the doorway. She suddenly jolted as if she recognized someone, and came walking towards the Ex Club men. 

"Uh oh – look who's behind her too." Legato sang with cruel mocking. "Your mortal enemy is headed straight towards us Hisoka. Would you like to hide behind the couch?" 

"What?" Hisoka could barely make out the stranger in the dim and weak specks of candlelight, but a snarl of unbearable rage immediately sprang to his lips when he recognized the figure trailing behind Mistress. In the wane and ineffectual candlelight, Illumi's alluring and enticing alabaster skin became deathly pale, a most unhealthy colour, and the shadows danced menacingly across his face, sinking his eyes and hollowing his cheeks. He looked like the animated undead, just risen from his coffin, still in the clothes that he was buried in, and he gazed at them with lifeless eyes, flickering from one person to the next. 

"Doesn't really look like a woman to me." Abel mused and shifted to make some room for Mistress. 

Illumi did look strikingly different tonight, perhaps it was for reasons of business. He was dressed in a sharp, finely cut and immaculate black suit with a matching blue silk tie. Whatever soft curves or images of femininity and delicacy he exhibited earlier on was meticulously concealed by his current performance and the sharp, straight cutting of his suit, and the sheer force of determination that he barely managed to reign in check sent familiar vibes to both Kuroro and Hisoka. At that moment in time, Illumi reminded them to some degree of Director Silva Zoldick. 

"Don't just stand there Illumi-kun. Make room gentlemen and give him a seat." Mistress said sweetly from her snuggled position next to Yomi. The blind man was frantically trying to get her attention. 

"Misshy, you want a drink? Shall I order dessert? Have you had dinner?" 

They all looked away and pretended not to hear anything when the couple engaged in what could conveniently be described as a 'smooching session' and instead, diverted their attention to the rather amusing way that Hisoka was reacting to the newcomer. 

The red head had narrated the entire story to them all earlier on in the evening during the sumptuous dinner, but they were all at pains to express that they couldn't possibly believe that the young man Hisoka was spoon feeding at the _Gladis' Cafe_ would end up strangling him at Fantasia and took the efforts of five strong men to remove him. Now, the very 'culprit' sat amongst them, rather subdued, shy and uncertain. You could tell that he was uncomfortable about his proximity to Hisoka and the latter wasn't helping with the daggers that his eyes were shooting. Hisoka looked tense, like a tightly coiled spring of malevolence, barely suppressed by the presence of Kuroro beside him, and was waiting for just the slightest excuse to release himself. 

"Misshy," Yomi began plaintively, "why did you come with him?" 

Mistress blinked. "For a number of reasons. First of all, as you well know, he and I are discussing business. Second, I'd guess you guys are all up to something, scheming, delving in gossip and rumors about Illumi, so I thought I'd bring him here and introduce him to you all so any scandal can be dispelled and to help him make a few more friends." 

"What kind of business are you thinking of running, Illumi-kun." Xelloss asked pleasantly and it would have been a friendly gesture had it not been the evil gleam of sarcasm in his narrow eyes. 

"Hey! No questioning until you've all been introduced." 

Begrudgingly, all the men complied with Mistress' wishes and there was a series of extended hands and exchanging of names. 

"I'm currently helping my mum design clothing – but Mistress-san and I are negotiating a joint venture on dolls." 

"Dolls?" 

"Yes Buunchu-san, I'm thinking of opening a Dolls House here in Anime City. It's a dream I've always had." 

"You wouldn't believe how cute those dolls are. Show him the seal." Mistress giggled, urging him to open his duffel bag. 

Mistress had been referring to a palm sized doll – of an adorable white baby seal with a pair of round, black eyes, and a stubby nose that just made you want to kiss him. The fur was smooth as silk and invited you to sink your fingers through and stroke it. Alucard literally snatched the small animal with something akin to fevered delight and couldn't stop laughing. 

"This critter is SO cute!" he exclaimed, rubbing his own nose against the seal's nose and giggled at his own uncharacteristic behaviour. 

"Maybe Integral would stop being such a stiff if I just showered her with a bundle of these. Oh goodness – what other animals do you have?" 

"Just this prototype Pug – Mistress-san especially ordered this one. I thought it was complete, but there's still some faults and a possibility of malfunctioning that I'm displeased with. It's working, but I've got to bring it back to my brother to fix the programming. Here." 

He bought out a life sized Pug, about forty centimeters long and heart stoppingly life like. Alucard howled with laughter at the Pug's lack of nose and big liquid eyes and this got Legato and Karasu rather amused as well. 

"Watch this Yomi," Mistress stirred by his side to his objections and leaned closer to the animal. "Sit!" the dog padded around to face Mistress on its dainty feet and sat, barking once in recognition of the command. 

"Shura's always wanted a dog, but you know that both of us are too busy to look after it for him. So I asked Illumi to make me this – and it can do a lot of other tricks as well." 

"This is a step up from the mechanical dog." Illumi explained, stroking the soft and furry body of the animal. "The mechanical dog was so dull, so cold and unattached because it was made of metal and metal can never be affectionate. Recently, they've begun to coat these sorts of mechanical cats and dogs with a flimsy fur coat, but it was never lifelike or authentic and they still were rock hard. It was still a lump of metal with some hasty cover draped on top. So I asked my brother to make a small mechanical skeleton with high tech programming which doesn't require much space. That way, it frees up more area for the soft stuffing, and I can concentrate on the detail of the dog. There's also a small heat generating device inside the dog – totally safe of course – so Pug's warm, just as a real dog would be." 

Alucard and Karasu both listened with rapt attention, on the edge of their seats and intently eyed the animal. Alucard had a look which could be described as awe and he stretched his hand to stroke the dog's chest. The Pug rolled over onto his back as an invitation to Alucard to rub his belly instead. 

"Make it do something else!" he demanded. 

Illumi bit is lip and delicately creased his brow with thought. Then, struck by inspiration, he snapped his fingers and said sharply. "Pug!" 

The dog rolled back onto its feet and turned to face the owner of the voice and watched Illumi point to a certain red head who then snapped the second command. "Kill!" 

Pug gave three short barks, whirled around to face a stunned Hisoka and without further ado, took a run up to the edge of the round table and launched its furry body at the magician, sailing through the air in an arc like a cream coloured cannonball. Pug landed on Hisoka's chest and sank his teeth into a mouthful of Hisoka's front shirt then shook his head from side to side very viciously, growling menacingly at the same time. 

"Aaiee! Dumbass dog! You're ruining my shirt!" Hisoka exclaimed, his fingers already frantically working towards prying the small jaws open and to save the remnants of his mangled top. 

The whole group erupted into violent laughter, Alucard and Legato so hard that they got cramps in their stomachs and droplets of tears were squeezed from the corner of their eyes. Only Abel and Buunchu remained more composed, granting Pug's little antics and the vigorous wagging of the small, curly tail a wry smile. After all, not everyone was fond of animals, let alone dogs with the propensity to launch themselves at people's tops and attempt to shred them to pieces. Furthermore, they were more aware of the almost teary look of humiliation on the girl who had just finished singing on stage and was replacing the microphone with trembling small hands. It wasn't due to remorse that Abel took notice of the other table of new actors whose faces were new and familiar to him, but the fact that in consequence of their noisy, explosive laughter, they had attracted on very fearsome, very muscular and very big woman to their table. 

She wore a sleek, vermilion red singlet top, revealing broad, powerful shoulders and an impressive bronze tan. And although she wore a short black skirt and a pair of thongs studded with glittering stones, it only displayed how well toned her long legs were, or just what sort of kick she would be capable of delivering if she really felt like it. Her face could be described as pleasant – but not your angelic oval shaped face that most woman desired and men attracted to, but more of a square jaw and a slight harshness in raw her features from her high cheekbones. It was still an attractive face, perfectly adorned by her short, natural red hair that she had partially pinned back with a headband. Had they all met under different circumstances, her own uniqueness and individual character alone would have granted her admission into the Ex Club and become one of the few female members. However, she stalked towards them all with no obvious intent or desire to become a part of them. 

The men all quieted down as she came to a stand still, glowering down at them all from her towering and impressive height, and those closest to her, namely the unfortunate Legato and Abel, fought the urge to shrink away from such a bloodthirsty and murderous gaze. 

"So you're the Ex Club." She began heavily, still scrutinizing them with her piercing eyes. "You were practically one of the first things we were told about when we came to Anime City, but I'm obviously not impressed by a bunch of rude and immature _brats_ who don't even have the decency to observe a performance in mild silence!" 

"Get out of here woman," Abel scoffed, evidently insulted "we don't care about your words or what you think of us. You're nothing to us." 

The tanned Amazon nodded curtly. "Right, and you're nothing to me too." 

To demonstrate exactly what she meant by those words, she leaned over, gripped the front of Abel's Calvin Klein shirt and rippling her magnificent muscles, she effortlessly lifted Abel off the couch and dangled him a good feet off the ground. She shook him as one would with a naughty and bratty child, laughing derisively at his ineffectual struggles and kept him off balance enough to prevent him from launching a kick. 

A dark shadow crossed her face as a blood thirsty and intimidating grin settled in. "Worthless trash – you've been pampered for far too long that you've gone soft. My name is Rogina, and it would do you good to remember my name and never cross my path again." 

In that one moment, the whole group of men could have launched themselves at her to help their friend in need and teach the newcomer a lesson, then proceed to intimidate the rest of the other actors from her table who were now snickering openly and without fear or remorse. That would have brought an abrupt end to the evening and cause everyone to depart in a sour, deflated mood. 

Or, what really happened was that Illumi jumped to his feet and hesitantly approached her carrying a stunned and incredulous expression. 

"Rogina – as in Ginny from Mirriston High?" 

The giantess casually dumped Abel back into his seat and turned to Illumi after a soft and lilting voice struck a chord of recognition in her memory and sparked back the many, many flashbacks from her primary and high school years. She looked at the young man before her, dressed in a black, sleek suit to accentuate his height and whiteness of skin, the familiar brocade of silken black hair and large black eyes beneath a pair of perfectly plucked eyebrows, set against painfully pale skin. 

"Illumi! It's Illumi!!" she expelled in an explosive breath of excitement and rushed him, gathering the fragile figure into a crushing embrace. It was only when Illumi began to splutter and wheeze that she released him and set him back onto the ground again, helping to smooth out the wrinkles on his jacket. 

"Oops." She grinned, patting Illumi so hard that he almost fell forward. 

Illumi stood up straight and looked up into Rogina's eyes which were suddenly alight with life and fire. She was a full head taller than him and she wasn't in heels yet. 

"I can't believe it. I haven't seen you since the principal died and your entire family moved away." 

"And I can't believe how much you've changed." His hand reached out tentatively to feel the tips of her hair between his fingers with a look of reminiscence. "You've cut your plaits." 

Rogina gave a deep laugh. "I cut them almost immediately after you graduated and moved away. It's difficult to care for long hair when you're captain of school sports." 

The back of his cold fingers brushed briefly against her cheek like the caress of the cold winter morning's icy wind. His smile was almost sad as he became momentarily lost in his own thoughts. 

"Please give my apologies to the young lady we interrupted. If it means anything – we weren't laughing at her, but it was something silly that I did." 

"It doesn't matter" she waved in dismissal, her previous wrath completely forgotten. "We always tease her about her singing anyway and she gets over these things pretty quickly. Here, I should give you my contact number. Find me some time so we can catch up. I've got to return to my table." She reverted back into her nasty and ferocious grin once more in particular at Abel. "Have a nice evening, girls." 

Illumi accepted the piece of paper from her with a mobile phone number hastily scribbled on it. He watched her return to the actors from the new Galaxy Institute, all boisterous with laughter. 

"Damn – I really think we should join her in. I love that sexy alto voice she has. It's something different from the constant sickeningly cutsey voice all other actresses seem to have." Xelloss said in a tone that could be described as admiration. Alucard and Karasu both nodded appreciatively in agreement, completely taken by and impressed by Rogina's courage and frank open nature despite her last insult in the end. She was someone to look out for in the near future. 

"And thank you so much for your concern over my near fatal predicament." Abel drawled sardonically, examining the crushed buttons on his shirt and its general mangled state. 

"Stuff the shirt Abel, I think it looks better that way." Kuroro smirked and offered him another drink, all in good humor. 

Illumi quietly excused himself to go to the bathroom and another number was called out. 

"Ooo! That's your number Yomi." 

The blind man smiled at his wife. "You take my turn. Everyone knows I can't carry a tune even if my life depended on it." 

Partway during her performance, Kuroro noticed that Buunchu and Abel had suddenly disappeared under the cover of darkness, but arrived shortly after Mistress finished. Karasu had to leave soon after when his son rang his mobile and threatened to set fire to the house and likewise, Franklin received another emergency call from his wife as well. 

The night continued without much more trouble or uprisings and everyone continued to talk quietly amongst themselves whilst others sang. It soon approached 1am and Gon prepared to leave with Killua. 

"Urgh…need to go to the bathroom." Gon groaned. 

"Need to wash my hands too." Killua waved goodbye to the co-actors and headed towards the washroom with Gon. 

"I think I've had too much ice cream. How many servings did you end up having Killua?" 

"Only 2. How many did you have?" 

"6." 

Killua laughed out loud. "Ouch! That's gotta be painful." 

"Not as painful as Abel being disgraced by a woman in front of so many people though." 

They both shared the same grin. "Serves him right. I always considered him to be a petty, small man. How on earth he got into the Ex Club is beyond me." 

Gon pushed the bathroom door open. "I think it's because he was one of the founders. Graude Foundation has been around for longer than half the other studios – " 

"My god!" they both whispered fearfully, surveying the carnage and damage to the luxurious washrooms before them. The two great slabs of polished mirror on either side of them had been smashed and broken. Damp, scrunched up paper hand towels were messily strewn around the marble floor and the metallic cylindrical trash can lay abandoned and desolate under one of the wash basins, dented and cracked. There were drops and splatters of blood here and there. Both boys clung to each other and after the initial paralyzing wave of fear passed, then made a mad dash for Hotel Security.   
  
  
  


* * *

**Saturday, 9:45am**

Naruto aimed a paper airplane that he'd neatly folded and took aim at Hiei's head. The airplane took off from his skillful fingers, sailed through the air but given the mysterious forces of gravity and air currents, or perhaps the tail wasn't adjusted correctly, it landed in one of Chibi Usa's pink buns on either side of her head. She gasped in fury and snatched the offending object from her hair and read the crude message inside. 

I think you stink >> 

She savagely tore up the paper into a million bits and turned around to glare at the rows of innocent faces behind her. Yahikio from Mejin Dynasty was trying to outdo Killua and Alluka again with outrageous stories of bravery. Gon's arms hung limply by his side and he leant forward at an uncomfortable position to rest his chin on the table whilst his fingers nearly brushed the ground. His eye bags were so dark today that he looked almost like a raccoon, and his clothes were so wrinkled that it looked like he had slept in them. Scowling with disdain at such sloppiness, she shifted her glare to another corner of the room where Sasuke sat alone, so engrossed in the music that was blasting into his ears from his MD player that he couldn't have been the one to have thrown the airplane. And besides, Sasuke was way too mature for that. Chibi Usa took note of the way that Anna and Sakura were giggling conceitedly. She _knew_ that they were stealing glances at her when they thought she wasn't looking in their direction. Chibi Usa turned her nose towards the air and sniffed. Fame turned a lot of people into green eyed monsters of jealousy. To her left and up the front of the room, Yoh and Hao were adding the last touches to their homework, namely the last three of the five pages of their weekly maths assignment with Shinta rapidly dictating the answers to them. Hiei and Tao Ren were leading the discussion with Rinku, Zuuchi and Amanuma, the five biggest hardcore gamers to possess every type of console known to man and frequently conducted massive three day marathons on multiplayer networking systems. That left only Naruto sitting and looking off vaguely towards the blank whitewashed walls, whistling a silly tune. 

Having identified the culprit, Chibi Usa was about to vent out her rage when a chilling presence dominated the room. It was an oppressive overwhelming that forced everyone to still and gaze attentively at the door. The Prince had arrived. 

Xelan was eleven and had an angelically innocent face, having inherited his mother's his large cerulean eyes and soft pinkish lips that seemed incapable of evil smiles or harsh words. And even if he did wear rainbow stripped suspenders with his brown pants and white shirt, he still looked damn fine. He most prized the long waist length purple hair that he had, the exact same hue as his dad. His hair was tied loosely with a black ribbon halfway down his back. 

Beside him with a cocky and arrogant grin on his face was "Prince Kaéry" – a monstrous brat who had always been kept in check by his uncle, but of late, he was on the rampage, finding no worthy adversary for his skill and wit. His glossy jet black hair was short and fashionable, his once sparkling blue eyes hidden by the violet contact lens he had adopted to look more like the splitting image of his father. Although only twelve years old, he was already the private operator of the extensive and multi-million dollar train service industry in St Petersberg. Kaéry had mastered a number of languages, all of which he spoke naturally and fluently, and one couldn't help thinking that the cruel mocking in his eyes was a testament to his genius and how he flaunted his abilities and powers and laughed at anything that could not conquer him. He could talk and speak like an adult, possessed a shrewd and calculating look that was evidently beyond his years, but at the same time, could resort to the same childish antics of the other young actors gathered here on a Saturday morning. 

Today, there was another boy behind them, over a head taller, and a face that Chibi Usa instantly recognized. 

"Shura? What are you doing here? I thought you had your own private tutors!" Rinku called out from the back of the room, waving to catch the boy's attention. 

The other boy shrugged. "I've gone through six tutors this fortnight already. None of them were up to scratch, so dad thought that if Saturday school is good enough for Kay and Xelan, then I should give it a shot too." 

Kaéry gave a small laugh. "Hate to burst your bubble Shura. We are only here to socialize and remind ourselves that we are still children and subject to certain social restraints." 

"_Apparently_ subject to certain restraints." Xelan, the quieter of the two said. 

"This place doesn't teach you how to manipulate your parents either." Tao Ren muttered scathingly, angry enough to say it, but without the guts to tell that straight to Prince Kaéry and Xelan's face. 

But Kaéry's sharp ears distinctly caught up this bitterness. "Of course not. It comes so naturally to us, does it not Xelan? Otherwise we'd be like Shura here, sitting up till three o'clock in the morning, waiting for his mum and dad to return. I wanted to play Twister last night, and Grandpa's too old for those games and it's boring with just me and mum. So I managed to get dad home by eleven thirty last night." 

"And what excuse did you use this time?" Xelan set his books down onto his usual table and pulled his seat out. 

"I said I was going to burn down the house and the duplicate certificates of title to all of Dad's properties if he didn't come home immediately." 

Xelan pursed his lips in thought. "That's a good one. Got to remember that." 

"And Shura – why is that dog following us?" Kaéry peered inquisitively behind Shura from his seat, genuinely puzzled. The taller boy looked delighted. 

"You thought he was real too? He's Pug – my mum bought him home last night. So you see, it was worth staying up to wait for them." 

Xelan and Kaéry almost jumped out of their seats, including the rest of the room who had cautiously gathered around look at the pug sitting on its haunches some two feet away from Shura. 

"You mean he's not real?" 

"Yup – he's a stuffed doll that can move and do a few other tricks. I told mum that I always wanted a dog, so she got me one which doesn't crap over the carpets or anything." 

Xelan knelt down beside the pug and ran a hand over its smooth body. He looked astonished. 

"It's warm!" 

"Damn," whispered Kaéry, a look of excitement and desire in his eyes. Then in a plaintive voice, said "Shura, make it do something else." 

Before the new boy could act, Math's teacher Saitou Hajime strode into the room, an unyielding and harsh expression (as always) on his face, his beady eyes glaring at all the children. 

"What are you all doing? Get back to your seats and open your textbooks immediately!" he snapped. 

Whilst most of the children obeyed, even Killua (although he had to drag his brother back to his seat), a look of hateful resentment instantly surfaced on Kaéry's face and Xelan's once pleasant disposition began to waver and he didn't look so pleased anymore. Shura patted Xelan's shoulder comfortingly. Then, he snapped his fingers. 

"Pug!" 

The mechanical animal turned to face the owner of the voice and watched Shura point to Saitou to snap another command. 

"Kill!" 

Giving three ferocious barks in recognition of the command, Pug whirled around to face Saitou, then without further ado, ran straight for Saitou's leg and immediately bit onto the foot of his trousers, shaking his head left and right viciously, growling at the same time. 

Saitou's reflexes told him to shake his feet and curse. 

"Stupid mutt! Shoo! Shoo!" 

The class dissolved into a solution of peals and hoots of laughter as the dog's tenacity didn't give in and the harder Saitou shook, the more resolve the dog hung on. 

"HA HA HA! HA HA HA!" Kaéry tried to speak, but he choked as all his words were stolen away by the intense laughter and he continued laughing after he fell off his chair and lay curled up on the floor. Xelan's characteristically morbid and desolate expression gave way to the infectious chuckles and giggling all around him. Pug was very humorous. 

"Who owns this dog? I **asked** WHO OWNS THIS BLOODY DOG!" 

"No more, no more!" Alluka gasped, his face muscles strained and cramped – it was the delicious kind of torture, it hurt and was painful, yet you just couldn't get enough of it for some reason. His whole body was wracking with pain from the violent shakings and there were no signs that they would subdue and no intention of wanting the hilarity to stop. Alluka closed his chunky maths textbook and sank his teeth into his textbook. It was getting out of control. 

"AK-SOKU-ZAN!" Saitou screamed with unholy fury and did a David Beckham style kick which finally got rid of the small animal and sent Pug flying through the air in a perfect parabolic arc out the door. 

"Y=-x2 !" Rinku hollered, watching Pug soar and sanity was promptly destroyed for the next half hour. Kaéry had to be sent to sick bay after suffering difficulty breathing, later diagnosed as mild hyperventilation and he carried a portable tank of oxygen and mask for the rest of the day.   
  
  
  


"Look at the almighty Prince, wearing his oxygen mask like a badge." Tao Ren whispered later during class after Saitou gave up teaching for that morning and the other teacher took over. "Getting so worked up about one toy dog. How immature." 

"Shut up Ren!" Hiei hissed, careful to see that Phinx, the English teacher, was not looking in his direction. "You can bitch about him later. This guy's worse than Saitou!" 

There was a small chuckle from Zuuchi. "But you have to admit that Pug was hilarious." He whispered. 

"Look at Alluka's textbook. It's in ruins and covered with drool!" Amanuma gestured to the soggy maths book that lay discarded on the floor. 

"Like your shirt is in a better state!" 

"ALRIGHT! Who's not concentrating on their composition? Mr. Hiei – I take it that your essay on the humors of someone's misfortune and misery is complete?" Phinx's voice cut through the dull silence like a blade if dry ice. 

"No sir." Hiei replied quietly, refrained himself from rolling his eyes and concentrated back onto the task at hand. 

Pug stuck its head out of Shura's bag and gave a soft whine. He hissed a "No" and the dog stuck its head back into the confines of the black backpack again.   
  
  
  


During the half hour class break at eleven thirty, after a grueling and deadpan hour of English with the unusually harsh and unfriendly Phinx, the classroom of child actors dispersed into small groups again. Alluka took this opportunity to approach Shura and extended a warm and friendly hand. 

"Nice to meet you Shura. I've decided to make you my idol for this running week for that stunt you just pulled off on Saitou. And it's your first day here as well. Gees – you better not let him know that Pug is yours otherwise you'll never hear the end of it from him and he'll pick on you for the rest of the year." 

Shura shook the enthusiastic boy's hand and looked down at Pug with pride and affection. 

"Pug is going to stay inside my backpack for the rest of the day after ruckus he just caused. I have enough sense than to annoy the teachers, but of course, I fully welcome and appreciate your advice and concern." 

"Don't sweat on it. You're my idol for the week remember?" 

They shared the same laugh, and it did not go past Killua unnoticed. 

"I just knew it." He groaned aloud. "Mixing in with the troublemakers like bees are attracted to honey. What is it with my brother and his fondness for trouble?" 

"What's the matter Killua, can't even handle your own brother?" 

Killua scowled at Yahiko's condescending tone. "Buzz off. Like you have any idea what it's like to have to look after a hyperactive danger-attuned sibling." 

The brown haired kid shrugged, his voice tinged with triumph. "Well, it just goes to show that you apparently don't have what it takes to be a big brother." 

The white haired boy became fed up. He raised his voice for the whole class to hear "Look Yahiko, I'll tell once and for all, in plain and clear words: I.am.not.interested.in.you I know you want to give people yaoi ideas about us by the way you want me to argue and bicker with you all the time, but I just won't go along with it ok? I want no part in your sick fantasies." 

This devastating sally was followed by a moment of stunned silence from the whole class. Then, a single, steady series of claps rang clearly and loudly from a maliciously grinning Kaéry. Xelan had also turned around, and he was looking at Killua with something akin to respect. 

"That was a very good come back." He complimented in his quiet voice. Shura whistled appreciatively. 

Yahiko tried hard to maintain an impervious smile, but the muscles were twitching at the sides and his façade started to crack. 

"Actually Killua, I would think that you would make the perfect female counterpart to me, given the vast amount of experience you have in mothering– oh, but that's right, it's because your mother left you that you've had to look after your brother like a mother should." 

"Ouch, getting onto one's mothers is despicable and dirty." Xelan solemnly narrowed his eyes, suddenly looking very much like his father but his voice remained quiet and polite. "If you had said those words to me, I would have knocked your teeth out, bankrupted your family and have you live on the streets for the rest of your miserable life as a beggar." The threat was only made the more spine chilling by the very lack of compassion and indifference in Xelan's voice. That muttered quietly to the still and silent room, Xelan turned around back to the front of the room again to face the blackboard. 

Gon tiredly tapped Killua on the shoulder. He not only sounded tired, but bored as well. 

"I think at this point, most fics require you to perform the obligatory rolling of sleeves, pouncing on each other, tipping over of some chairs, rolling on the floor trying to strangle each other, then wait for the teacher to come in to separate the both of you." 

"Um Gon, I don't think that this fic is like "most fics" though." Killua patiently pointed out. 

Gon thought about it in his semi comatose state. He very much resembled a zombie right now. "You're right – what do you have to do?" he said monotonously. 

"Come back with another wittier reply I guess." Killua shrugged, then frowned, thinking hard thumb and index finger slowly tracing his jaw line. 

"Well, what Yahiko basically said is true however. If you want me to defend my mother, then I'll ask the audience to wait a million years. There you go Yahiko, scandalize her as much as you want – in fact, I could give you the name of several gossip columns for you to defame her. God knows I hate her guts enough after she betrayed my family and left me to fend for myself and look after my brother. How Yahiko can see anything feminine about fulfilling my brotherly duty is clearly beyond us all. Perhaps I should invite him to explain his twisted logic?" 

"His logic would share something common with the people in straight jackets who live in white padded rooms." Shura uttered aloud, fulfilling his duty as 'Idol of the week'. 

Several snickers followed and laughter rumbled in all their throats, but they had enough civility to keep it compressed. That was until approaching footsteps rendered them wary and cautious again and all eyes were fixed onto the open doorway, an alluring open of space tentatively about to reveal a delicious secret. The room became unnaturally still as the ringing footsteps appraoched…plod…plod…plod…plod. 

Principal Gaav stormed into the room with a small and delicate girl by his side. Her eyes were slightly puffy and red, forehead creased into a perpetual frown and lips in a grumpy pout. Gaav seemed not happier either. His forehead was beaded with sweat and he was doing all he could to prevent himself from settling into his usual ugly scowl. 

"All right you bunch of well off, impatient, nasty and arrogant brats!" he began with the usual fiery address. "This is a new classmate – you all call her Karuto – she's new to town with her family and will soon be joining Hunter Works. Now, either someone be her friend, or if I see her leave the school grounds all by her lonesome, it will be detention for you all." 

"What bit you on the bum today sir?" Naruto cheekily called from the back of the room. Principal Gaav's face darkened but said nothing and gave Karuto a slight shove forward. 

"Well," he hissed "introduce yourself." 

Karuto recklessly glared at him and made to grumble. "There really isn't much that I can say that you haven't said already, sir." 

"Er….um….then why don't you mingle with the group then. Well, don't just stand there glaring daggers at me! Move it! Chop chop!" 

He literally shoved her forward, spun on his heels and stalked out of the room, but on his way out, he ran into someone whose bulk had nearly taken up all the space in the hall way. 

"Gods! Out of my way!" 

Karuto still didn't move a step from the front of the class room and looked anything but willing to be in the classroom full of other child actors. Her bloodshot eyes glared at the desperately gesturing looming figure from the doorway and mouthed certain curse words. 

"Don't just stand there!" Milluki hissed, urging her like one would at a fly that wouldn't go away. "Go find Killua!" 

"I'm not going anywhere! Aniki was supposed to see me off to school today! He's not here!" she screamed at him with the full force of her fury and gripped a duser, then flung it with all her strength at the fat boy. 

"Damnit! Karuto! Stop that this instant!" 

"Where's Aniki! I want Aniki to see me off! I want Aniki!" 

Milluki had no choice but to enter the classroom, draped in embarrassment and beckoned to Killua and Alluka to come forward. He spoke to them in a hushed, rapid voice. 

"I'm sorry to bring this on you guys, but could you help me look after Karuto today?" 

"What's up with her?" Alluka stole a side glance at the enraged girl, still in front of the blackboard, now venting out her anger and frustrations on the teacher's chair. 

The fat boy slapped his forehead in frustration, sighing with defeat but didn't have enough strength to talk. "Look, to cut a long story short, big bro promised to take Karuto here this morning, but he didn' come home last night and I slept in, that's why we are late. And that's why no one else was at home to help Karuto do her hair or pick her clothes. And that's why she's ultra angry right now. Just tell her that she looks fine and accompany her for the rest of the day, pretty please?" 

"We saw Illumi-san last night at the Elysian karaoke venue. He left halfway…didn't he go home after that?" 

Milluki shook his head to clear his thoughts. "That doesn't matter. Big bro is an adult – he can go wherever he likes, I'm not questioning that. But he should have been here for Karuto damnit – I can't help her pick her clothes you see! Gah! Look at her! Please, please help me out – I'll do anything." 

"No problemo. Alluka and I will see to the situation right away." 

"Good. I'll just explain the situation to Karuto then. KARUTO! Come here! Now!" 

The little girl fumed but acquiesced, stalking over with death in her eyes. 

"Get rid of that look. You know Killua and Alluka from dinner the other night. Now stay with them for the rest of the day, and I'll be back to pick you up at two." 

"I want Aniki!" 

"Well aniki is not going to be here!" Milluki growled testily, finally having lost his cool and the temper beginning to rise. "You'll have Killua and Alluka-kun instead. You will behave and act like a good little girl. You will pick up the chair you kicked over and put this duster back on the blackboard sill. You will then sit at your table and open your textbooks and wait for the next teacher to arrive." 

"I Hate Your Guts!" Karuto screamed at the top of her lungs. 

"Enough of that young lady! You can take it out on Aniki when he gets home." Milluki pushed the three of them back in without warning with his great fat hands and took the startled opportunity to hastily disappear. Killua was about to holler out to the retreating body. He didn't want to pursue the matter further and gave up with a sigh. 

Killua steered the girl back into the room filled with curious actors. "Come on Karuto – you just keep quiet for the next two hours and then we'll help you look for your brother." He then raised his voice to address his peers. "Can everyone please stop gawking at her? She's just another actor who'll shortly become one of us." 

"Just another big baby, kind of a bit like you Kay." Xelan smirked at his friend. Kaéry easily shrugged off the insult and laughed. 

"I wish I had elder siblings to pamper me, but unfortunately, I don't so I have to make do. Karuto-chan on the other hand must have attention from not only her parents, but also two elder ni-chans as well. And by the looks of things, it looks like she gets their attention pretty well." The Prince's smile turned from light hearted to malevolent. "Just like us. Welcome to the class Karuto." He declared. 

When the Prince makes a declaration, no one in their right minds would challenge. 

As Karuto passed, Chibi Usa made a comment. 

"Screaming and yelling and throwing a tantrum in public is just so unprofessional and unladylike." And this was said with as condescendingly and scathingly as was possible for a ten year old girl. 

And Karuto did not hesitate in taking offence and promptly punched her out. 

The class went into an uproar of loud cheers and shouts of joy. The teachers decided it was best not to enter the battlefield of screaming and cursing from a particular pink haired girl who was loosing a nasty little cat fight. Large clumps of hair hung limply from her ruined buns and her left cheek was stinking with pain from the last slap. 

"You little bitch!" she grated and threw her maths textbook at the new girl. Karuto ran behind the front desk and crouched, avoiding the missile. Her hand reached for the duster again, and with deadly accurate precision, aimed the object right between Chibi Usa's eyes. 

There was a flat, low sound as it connected with target and Chibi Usa clamped her hands over her bleeding nose and fled from the room, sobbing in pain. 

Karuto coldly watched the girl flee and took up her seat beside Kaéry, who cockily grinned at her. His eyes, alight with unfettered interest and joy, never left hers as he took her hand and brushed his cold lips across the back of her hand. He spoke with a voice that did not know a day's worth of insecurity or uncertainty. 

"My name is Kaéry, and I think I'm going to like you very much. Care to join us afterwards for lunch?" 


	9. Chapter 9: The undecipherable plans of a

**CHAPTER 9**

**_The undecipherable plans of an enigmatic man_**   
  


The rest of Saturday school continued and finished without much chaos or trauma for the child actors. After Karuto's raucous (although Gon preferred the term 'infamous') entrance, other teachers finally dared to step into the dreaded infernos of the classroom and finished the day a full hour late. The elder teenage actors were gathered in the café just across the street from the school, sipping cups of coffee and dining on toasted croissants or heavy slices of cheesecake as they wondered why their schooling was being delayed. 

Kaéry would have liked to stay and entertain Karuto, if not for pressing and urgent business required at _his_ office. He scowled at Talen's small and mocking grin of pity, revealing sharp and pointy canines. 

"So Shura, it's just you and me this afternoon. Got any ideas about what we can do?" the quiet boy turned to his new friend. 

The elder and bigger boy shrugged. "Do you mean you've run out of people to pick on? How about the elder kids – especially those nasty brats from Hokage village. I've always hated the looks of them." 

"You mean Recca and his ilk?" Xelan raised a delicate eyebrow in thought. 

"And the bunch of pansies from Side 7 as well." 

"Hmm….pansies, yes, I couldn't come up with a better term to describe Heero the spandex wearer and his other plastic friends with equally plastic hair." At this point, Xelan grimaced even more. "There's Yahiko again. Gees, why doesn't he just give up?" 

Shura also frowned, but he wasn't as annoyed. "You want me to beat him up or something?" 

"No, no. Nothing of that sort. Come on, we've got more constructive things to do – like doing research on Kay's new object of affection." 

Karuto, on Milluki's orders, was going to spend the rest of the day with Killua and Gon. It would be a good opportunity to use them and meet new people, establish new contacts and broaden her horizons a bit more. The more people saw her and knew her name in Anime City, the greater her chances of attracting a director and a role. But truth be told, her stark and attention seeking entrance at Saturday school was not planned. Illumi was supposed to see her off this morning, but he didn't come home last night and wasn't in his room in the morning. She certainly picked the right dress however. Mother would most definitely be pleased to know that she had attracted Prince Kaéry's attention AND had a date pending already. All on the first day. Mother would literally whoop with joy. 

"Yahiko, go home. You've already embarrassed yourself enough today." 

Yahiko's cheeks were flustered red with anger and did not take the dismissal well. His vindictive bitterness currently knew no bounds and backing away from the confrontation did not even occur to him. He blocked Killua's path and breached his personal space, so close to the other boy that they were almost nose to nose. Flickering fires of hate was spluttering in his eyes. 

"You are scum and worse than scum," he whispered with deathly coldness "and I certainly don't think I could ever be embarrassed by motherless bastard!" 

The silence became potentially charged between them and static crackled dryly in the air causing the fine hairs on everyone's arms to waver indecisively. Even the older boys and girls passing through the front gates of Saturday school came to a standstill to observe in mild fascination. 

Gon, who was standing beside Killua, couldn't give a damn if his jaw was hung wide open and off its hinges at such an insult. He was going to stand there and gape in astonishment at the depths that Yahiko from Mejin Dynasty would sink to, the extent he would destroy his reputation and the extremely high potential of offending the heir to Hunter Works, just so he could save face. Had it been directed at him, he guessed that his vision would have been wiped out, replaced by white hot rage and anger. Which explained his amazement right now at Killua's extremely cool and unperturbed composure. There was only so much ice in you before fiery wrath took over – Gon decided that some people, like himself, had lower melting points than others, and Killua must have scored as high as silicon. 

"Yahiko," Killua finally spoke up when he was sure his voice was steady. He would later find out from his brother just how much he looked and sounded like his own dear father at that moment. "I think you are insane. Truly. Step away from me so you don't give people the wrong ideas about us, and kindly keep your disgusting Oedipus infatuation in your sickly and sorry mind. I have better things to do, with friends you apparently don't have. Good bye." 

"Damn," Shura whispered to Xelan, not daring to disturb the sweet tenderness of victory in the air even as Killua and his troupe sauntered away, "I swear that kid comes up with the best comebacks." 

The quiet boy with the waist length purple hair solemnly nodded in agreement, like everyone else, also intently studying Killua's back. Except he didn't let people notice his interest – it would be unbecoming if they found out the confident and arrogant Xelan had been impressed. It was acceptable for Shura to continue to ramble in excitement around him, making him look all the more calmer, but it never hurt not to put someone down on the list of people you watched out for in the future - especially people with potential. 

"All right Shura, lets grab our long delayed lunch first, and the first thing we do afterwards is hack into some files in the right places and find information that Kay might find useful." 

Shura was busying setting down his backpack, unzipping it and letting Pug gracefully hop out of the bag in a pitter patter of small feet. He wasn't looking at Xelan when he nodded, his attraction still fiercely drawn by the dog, but he seemed to have heard. 

"Sounds good to me, but just a side question – why? Does Kaéry make you do errands for him all the time?" 

"It's not an errand." Xelan said icily, clearly offended by the suggestion. "Whoever hangs around Kay will inevitably hang around me…and you. I want to know exactly _who_ I'm dealing with, at all times. You never know about people's hidden and ulterior motives unless you have information about them and can guess at the sources which drive and fuel them. The ability to know and predict another person's thinking will leave them as defenceless bugs in the palm of your hand, to squish and destroy as you wish!" and Xelan held up a small, milky white open palm and scrunched his fingers forcefully into a fist so hard that you could hear several joints popping. 

"Gees Xelan, judging by the way you talk, you think half the world is out to get you." 

The boy rolled his eyes. "Half the world is out to take advantage of you." 

"That's just paranoia." 

"And it runs deep in our family – you should try it too Shura, especially since we all have so many interests to protect. Rather be safe than sorry right?" 

Shura gave that some thought as he trailed after Xelloss' son, then gave an emphatic nod. 

* * *

  
  
  


**Thursday**

Illumi was officially declared missing on Tuesday. His mobile phone could not be contacted as it was always switched off, and by all accounts, no one had seen him since Friday night when he joined the Ex Club at an Elysian Karaoke night. Silva and Kikyou kept it under wraps so that neither the press nor the law enforcers stepped in, but it worried Kikyou even more, and if she worried, Silva suffered on the other end. 

"This is just so not like him! He never disappears without a trace, no note, no call, no letter, NOTHING!" Kikyou sobbed, burying her face into her hands. 

"I've been spreading agents all over the city – but they've got nothing to report. Perhaps he's skipped the town and gone off for a break." Silva sat down beside her on the couch and soothingly rubbed her back. It seemed to only agitate her further. 

"FROM WHAT?! He hasn't started work yet and helping me out at Fantasia isn't the most stressful job." 

"I assume it's the pressure from the media…and perhaps the other co-workers at Hunter Works about that certain chain of incidents last week." 

Kikyou moaned out loud and threw her arms around Silva's neck, sobbing softly against his ear. 

"I'm so sorry anata. I thought things would work out for him, hoped that the transition and change would be easy. But he seems to have found a way to stuff things up so badly that he could publish a 'how to' book on it too. Illumi seemed so enthusiastic at first when I told him that we were moving to Anime City – he was being so helpful with all the packing and moving and setting up Fantasia here." She loosened her stranglehold around his neck and snuggled into a more comfortable position. 

"It was all gong so well, I could tell that Illumi was looking forward to make new friends here." 

"Shhh…there, there Kikky. Illumi's a grown man – we shouldn't treat him like a child." 

But Kikyou after some moments reluctantly broke from the embrace slightly and withdrew so that she could look directly into Silva's eyes. She looked miserable and her eyes showed so much burden and weariness. He caressed her cheek with one hand and she leaned into his assuring open palm but sighed again. 

"There are some things I really should tell you, it's just…" 

"I'm an open and understanding person Kikky. Feel free to speak." 

"Of course you're not Silva," she scoffed, still sullen "lets be honest with ourselves. I have little to no patience, too ambitious for my own good and overwhelmingly dominant. People think you are a block of ice with no emotions and ten times more deadly than the shark in Jaws. If I can't solve these delicate family problems, what inkling do you have about a solution?" 

He pulled her back into his fold again, a frown on his features. 

"Illumi's our son Kikky. We're family – so we stick together through thick and thin. Family is the strongest tie there is, so whatever problems he has, we all be helpful and supportive and deal with it." 

"You don't want to deal with Illumi." She whispered. 

"Why not?" 

"Because even I am afraid to meet him – the real Illumi, my own son who I don't even want to know. He'll frighten you Silva; his gaze will chill your bones, your ears will bleed if you hear his laughter and your mind will be soiled and corrupted if you ever listen to his words…it's…a terrifying experience." 

"You're exaggerating things dear," he brushed stray strands of hair from her face, hopping them neatly behind her ears. "things can't be as bad as you make them out to be." 

There was a look of veiled horror in her eyes when she held her head up again to look at him. For a fraction of a second, with the fear he smelt on her, he was ready to believe her words. 

"Illumi drove the man who he thought was his father insane and laughed as he did it. It was only afterwards that I found out that he'd been playing a sick, twisted little game with his so-called father, a game, he said, that had gone on for as long as he could remember – a scheme, a plot to drive someone to the abyss of insanity from psychological torture." She forced herself to swallow the sobs and continue, but her shivering intensified as the memory sent chills down her spine. 

"He said he loved every moment of it, driving his father up the wall, denying him so completely when his abhorrent lust was raging in his veins, and as my ex was gasping on the floor, suffering from a fatal heart attack and writhing in pain and agony, Illumi stood above him and was laughing. Laughing, he said, at such a completely beautiful and triumphant victory. He asked me to join in and laugh as he did. I felt nauseous for days." 

"Bad people deserve everything they get." Silva said ominously. 

"Yes, my ex was a disgusting piece of slime and deserved to die by all rights but the person who dealt death did not do so out of sympathy and compassion for the people my ex hurt. He did it out of cruelty. I'm so sorry that Illumi turned out this way Silva." 

The Director and President of Hunter Works cleared his throat to indicate that the topic was over. "It 

doesn't matter Kikky. Lets just find him first and then deal with the problems as they arise, ok?"   


* * *

  


Killua was sulking during lunch break. He rarely spoke whilst Shalnark rambled on with the usual daily smatterings of jokes and a read aloud of the hottest gossip pages, and even when Kurapika offered to treat him to a chocolate milkshake, he still looked away. The lunch group was small today, and his troubles were painfully obvious. 

"All right, I give up. What is it this time?" Menchi threw her hands in the air. She shot Shal a glare to silence him from reading the gossip pages and everyone put down their cutlery. 

Killua sighed again. "Karuto-chan has been staying over at my house for the past few days. Her brothers aren't at home to look after her, and dad seems to be negotiating some complex deal with aunt Kikyou – they're always out, till late at night. Things get rather…nasty…when Karuto is upset." 

"Oh my god," Leorio exclaimed in sarcasm. "he's complaining about company! Cheer up kid – I bet that your house is never this lively." 

The young boy grimaced a bit. He looked around at the people sitting with him for lunch: Leorio, Kurapika, Menchi, Shalnark and Senritsu. Odd gathering he must say, but the others were eager to scout for news about an upcoming competitor against the Elysian Hotel complex, situated right in the heart of Anime City, who were going to build an equally tall sky scrapper and cram in as many shopping stores and food places as legally possible. 

He lowered his voice a fraction more, leaning into the centre to share a secret. 

"Illumi's been missing since the Karaoke night. Dad's getting _real _angry because it must be affecting his business with Fantasia." 

"Missing?" Shal lifted an eyebrow. He quickly flipped through his magazines until he found the right page. "Here, it says in this article: 

_Hisoka and new love gone to ground – the raven haired enchantress has been conspicuously off the scene in the recent days, with womanizing actor Hisoka (currently contracted to Hunter Works) frequently seen socializing with his co-workers._

I thought that Illumi-san was just trying to keep out of the spotlight for the next week or so." 

"Yeah – except no one can reach him. His mobile phone's dead; he's not at his own home; his secretary says he hasn't turned up for work or taken any of the calls. Get this too – his bank account hasn't been touched and it doesn't look like he's made any credit card transactions since Friday night. No one's sighted him for days – Karuto's getting cranky – I'm on the receiving end." 

"Hisoka's going to be in even more trouble then – wasn't he supposed to be chaperoning Illumi for the next fortnight?" 

"Wipe that smirk off your face Leorio," Menchi hissed, not bothering to hide the dislike she had for the man sitting opposite her. "We shouldn't be held accountable for a psychopath with homicidal tendencies. I'd personally be glad that we never see the back of him ever again." 

"If it were only that simple – remember how I hacked into Hunter Works database only last week and found Illumi-san's profile in there? He's going to be a member of Hunter x Hunter, though what role I'm still unsure about. But it says enough – he's important to the Director, and we might all be responsible if President Silva decides to blame us for Illumi-san's disappearance." Shal frowned. "You are right Killua, this is something to be troubled about." 

"Good – I like to spread my miseries." 

"So, do the police have any leads?" 

"No Kurapika, dad and aunty Kikyou have decided not to contact the police and keep things under wraps. Both have probably decided that it would be bad publicity anyway, so we're relying solely on private links and extensions around the city. Personally, I thought my dad had one of the best networks, but his agents have come up with nothing. Illumi-san either hides from us very well, or he's left the town. As Shal said, we're the ones who're most likely to be blamed for this whole mess. Maybe we shouldn't have goaded Hisoka into the confrontation that day." 

"Lets go find the other actors." Senritsu gathered her belongings and pulled out her wallet to pay for the meal. "they need to know, and the more people searching, the greater chance we have of locating Illumi-san. I'm sure we can trust them to keep things secret." 

"Hisoka'd just open another can of beer if he hears that Illumi is gone." Killua said dejectedly, rising out of his chair with exaggerated despair. 

"Not if he finds out that the Director will be displeased with him the most." Leorio continued to chuckle as they departed the café to find their other fellow actors.   
  


* * *

  
  


Kaéry was strolling down Glamour Isle wondering what in blazes he was doing, running errands for this girl he had barely met. Karuto looked more than grumpy when they met on Tuesday night for dinner with Xelan and Shura. He supposed that he was only curious, and Karuto seemed convinced that something had happened to her brother. 

Well, another problem that was slowly unraveling before his eyes. 

The case had been simple, especially if you had been Kaéry. He was sure that even Xelan would have worked things out straight away. All that he needed now was proof to back up his theory. 

He stopped in front of a gleaming set of marble steps, almost twenty feet wide, leading up to gold gilded rotating glass doors and high class materialism oozing from the cold mists of the air conditioner swirling at his feet. His father's building – all thirty levels, his. 

Did he really need to bother his dad about this business? It probably wasn't such a good idea to push his demand for attention to far. After all, attention seeking from busy parents was an art and there were fine lines and delicate pressure points that had to be sparingly pressed, forcing you to come up with other creative alternatives. All part of the challenge and fun. He sighed and set on the steps, off in one corner, and opened his shoulder bag to review the contents of his day's work. 

DNA reports from private labs, commonly used by celebrities to confirm the identity of their child's father. He flicked through the documents. One was the report from the analysis of Illumi-san's hair, provided by his sister. It seemed a novel idea at first, and perhaps slightly exciting – this whole business of detective work. You could never solve a case these days without DNA, so he asked for a sample. Next set of documents were the analysis of some blood he'd found in a bathroom – Elysian Hotel, fifth floor to be exact. Killua and Gon had made a report to hotel security on Saturday morning, 12 am, about an incident which must have taken place. From their accounts, mirrors were cracked, the metallic cylindrical waste basket was violently dented, droplets of blood were splattered all over the wash basins – these were definite signs that a struggle occurred. Coincidentally, by Yomi's accounts (information carefully extracted by Shura on Xelan's careful coaching), the last he saw of Illumi was when he excused himself to go to the bathroom. So he decided to take a look to see if Gon's discovery on Saturday morning was connected. By the time he arrived at Elysian on Tuesday, the washroom was, as expected, spotless clean and nothing left to suggest that anything had ever happened. But he moved towards the golden doorknob, particularly the underside – the hardest place to clean – and struck jackpot. Smears of crimson remained. He took a swab and sent it to the labs with the strand of hair. The results were that there was a 99.8% chance that the blood belonged to the owner of the hair. This means that Illumi was most likely to have been assaulted in the bathroom. 

Deductive reasoning next compelled him to ask 'who' assaulted Illumi. Hotel security would definitely not allow him to access their security tapes. He refused to stamp his feet in frustration – those tapes would have lessened his workload, but a challenge was always fun. So he didn't have the co-operation of the Hotel people, nor were the police going to disclose any information to him. That meant, as any normal citizen was entitled to do, he could go around and ask questions from people there that night. 

He had his chauffeur drop him off at the new Galaxy Institute and under the pretence of seeking autographs he found another child actor around his age, perhaps two or three years older, but certainly didn't look it. Daisuke was about the same height as he was, with moussy brown hair propped up in a short, high ponytail and a cat like smirk. He had a lot to talk about, especially his encounter with the Ex Club. Kay knew he was exaggerating half the time, sprinkling embellishments here and there, but he was talking about Friday night, which was extremely helpful. 

"There was a lot of laughing at their table," he rambled on, digging into an ice-cream sundae that they ordered outside McDonalds. "Of course, they kinda interrupted Simone's singing, but everyone knows she can't sing. Then Rogina, you've got to meet her – she's like this iron woman with amazing muscles – went over to this guy called…Abel? You know, fine blue hair, a sneer that got stuck on his face when the wind changed?" 

"Ah yes – Abel from Graude Foundation. Did you ever see him in the St. Seiya movie as the Sun God? Let me assure you, the real Abel is twice as arrogant as the god himself." 

Daisuke giggled. Kay was a fascinating boy who had his way with words that sounded…what was that term they always used….cynical! That's it. 

"Yeah, so Rogina was all non fussed when Abel told her to go away. She gripped him, by the front of his expensive CK shirt, then lifted him this far from the ground." Daisuke dropped his spoon and held out a good feet and a half between his hands, and a broadening grin on his face. 

"Have you got any idea how big her hands are? Or how strong she must be? I bet she can crack three walnuts in one hand, without raising sweat either! By the time she let go and threw him back on the couch, his shirt was scrunched up and mangled beyond repair. And he sat there spluttering and gasping for breath whilst the rest of the club just laughed." 

"No, they were probably cheering her on." Kaéry calmly informed him and forced himself to a sip of the vile substance that McDonalds tried to pass off as coke. He delicately reached for one of Daisuke's chips and nibbled on the end, immediately feeling violated by the sheer volumes of oil in the junk. 

"One of them gave her his number afterwards when it was all over – Bunchuu I think. He was all charming and polite to us all, but just underneath, I felt that he was…dangerous, can't be trusted, the type who never means what they say. I think he meant for us to see that side of him as well, just to keep us on our toes. Needless to say, all the men had broke into cold sweat and Rogina just stiffly nodded at him and told him to scram." 

"Bunchuu doesn't have much of a personality. What character he has can be neatly summarized as 'meanie'. He's blonde, got blue eyes, goes to gym regularly enough and spends a fortune on his hairstyle. That's all enough really to give you a fanatical following of girl fans." 

"I'll say," Daisuke rolled his eyes, clearly not a fan of pretty boys. "because he was probably so obsessed with his image, along with Abel, that they left for the bathroom to fix themselves up during Mistress' song. I wouldn't have left even if my bowels were going to burst – that woman is such an amazing goddess when she opens her mouth to sing. And so two big men left during her performance to brush up on their hair and clothes. Gees, I thought it was only women who are so pedantic about their image. I wouldn't be surprised if they were caught bitching and gossiping in the men's toilets. God spare us all." 

Both laughed out aloud as Daisuke mock crossed himself. Kaéry's interest had perked up straight away. According to Shura's account of the table's story that night, Illumi left the Karaoke room not long after reconciling with his high school friend Rogina. Then, Mistress took to the stage to sing. And during that time Abel and Bunchuu had also left, possibly to go the bathroom. Men going to the bathroom in twos? That was totally unheard of – something must be wrong. 

"Abel and Bunchuu are notoriously known for drinking like a fish. I wouldn't be surprised if they had already consumed six pots of beer by then." 

"Drinking like a fish – ha! I gotta remember that one." 

"Look Daisuke. It was nice talking to you, but I've got to get going. Appointments, meetings, you know the deal." He shrugged into his black jacket and started to check that everything was in his bag. 

"Nice meeting you too Kaéry, and thanks for the lunch. Will I be seeing you around?" 

"Of course." He lied straight through his teeth and even managed to look sincere. "Enjoy your meal." 

He was so excited by the new discovery that he almost ran from the food restaurant to find Abel and squeeze and extract the information on him by a delicious process of bullying, threats and bribes. But as he continued to walk down the streets deep in thought, he realized that he didn't need to go and confront either adults. The answer was most likely that they did beat up Illumi, and prodding them about their motives would certainly corrode his father's standing and relationship with them in the group. Bad idea. 

He decided to go to ask his dad about the possible motives instead – why distinguished men like Bunchuu and Abel would sink as low as to do the dirty work themselves. He'd been pondering for an hour or two and still came up with nothing plausible, frustrating as it was to admit, so in defeat, he found himself strolling down Glamour Isle towards his father's workplace. 

"So damn close to solving the whole thing, and I just need the stupid motive. Think! Why would you want to beat someone up!?" He growled aloud to himself. The vibration of his cell phone alerted him to an incoming call. 

"Yes?" he said irritably. 

"Kay, you're starting to annoy me – you've been sitting outside my office building for the past hour. If you want to set something alight – do it now and spare me the anxiety and stress. Don't just sit there and do nothing, my nerves are about to break down." 

Kaéry turned around and smiled into the black security camera scanning the steps leading down to the street, keeping track of the people entering and leaving the massive building. 

"Sorry dad, but I was deciding whether to annoy you with a question or not." 

"I'm annoyed already. So shoot – what's the question?" 

"Why would Bunchuu and Abel beat up Illumi-san? Aside from the fact that they are cowards and can't fight fair and are mean and nasty?" 

"Ah yes…I suspected why they left so quietly during Mistress' song. I mean, no one leaves or moves when Mistress sings, not unless they want to wait until they're in heaven just to hear an angel sing again. But you've confirmed my suspicions quite a bit there Kay. Now you want to know why." 

"Illumi hasn't been in town long enough to tread on any toes – not enough anyway to have Bunchuu and Abel their honoured selves to set down and break some bones." 

"Oh? You really think that Illumi hasn't left an impression on this town yet? How about I indulge you in this piece of gossip then." 

And over the phone, Karasu recounted to his son what was almost an unbelievable and fantastic story about the many he saw in the newspapers. Kaéry was astonished, amazed by the total contradictions from the facts that he had managed to scavenge around the city for the past few days. He heard the story of a psychotic man with murderous and violent capabilities. He dug into his bag again as he continued to listen to the smooth narration over the phone and stared intently at the pictures taken by undercover agents and journalists. Silken black hair, almost as long as Xelan's, large feline eyes brimming with delicate vulnerability and a curvy, hour glass figure that most women would die for. Was this the same ruthlessly determined businessman that Karasu had been introduced to on Friday night? And was this the self same man who was muttering some vile chant in a guttural language whilst he tried to strangle the life out of Hisoka? The puzzle surfaced as a frown and marred Kaéry's delicate features. 

"…personally," Karasu continued on "I wouldn't bet on Abel of Bunchuu doing something for a reason. Hell, I'd bet my entire life savings that half the things they do they can't think of a reason for. The only possible motive in this whole affair is – " 

"Retribution, fear, and the sense of security that comes along with the assertion of power." 

Karasu blanched – his son's voice could be so detached and cold that he almost held the phone away from his ear lest it become frostbitten and falls off. 

"Kay, why are you suddenly inquiring about all this? You've never involved yourself with petty gossip before, and I happen to like it that way." 

"It's nothing father, a new friend of mine is Illumi's sister. I was bored anyway so I decided to help her. Thanks for the tips dad, I've got to think and ponder on them now." 

Without waiting for a reply, Kaéry snapped his phone shut, switched it off and carelessly dumped it into his shoulder bag. He remained seated on the last step, biting the insides of his cheek with narrowed eyes unfocused whilst his mind madly raced ahead. 

"We always strike out at what we fear, what we are afraid of, what we don't understand" his analysis began. "A common reassertion of confidence is to test the new and unfamiliar subject – with the preferable result being the reinforcement of your current standing – that you are stronger, superior." 

Kaéry visibly scowled. Now came the hard part. 

"But in what ways was the newcomer frightening? What had he done to instill the fear of god into Bunchuu and Abel that they, respectable and men of complete control over their emotions, could resort to such base actions as beating someone up in the bathroom? This is where the Fantasia incident was relevant – it was proof that Illumi was an unascertainable character. Compounded with the wild rumors that he was Hisoka's new love, a gentle creature, charming and beautiful, frolicking on the beach, the whole thing just didn't fit. If someone stepped out and claimed that Illumi had an evil twin, he would have been inclined to believe it. But before you jump to such preposterous and extravagant reasoning, THINK! The questions to ask are the HOW and the WHY. _How _does someone exhibit such dramatically contrasting personalities, then ask _Why_ they'd go to all the trouble of confusing the hell out of everyone. 

The How is always the hardest part to answer, his uncle frequently used to said. How can a doe eyed young man who is easily mistaken for a woman, known to have been reduced into hysterical sobbing over a shower cubicle, suddenly turn around and fix his pale, frail hands around someone's windpipe and almost succeed in crushing it? Then only hours later reappear as a no nonsense, take no crap bachelor in an elegant suit and determination so sharp that you could cut someone with it? 

Schizophrenia? Split personality? 

No – the shifts in character seemed too… 

Kaéry didn't realize just how terrible his expression was – the snarl, his frown and eyes behind violent contact lenses burning fiercely with anger to ward off a tidal wave of fear that would pour endless buckets of shivers down his spine. He needed to shout and scream, rave and kick, do…something to get rid of the horrid feeling inside him that the conclusion of his analysis had brought. A rotten answer, soiled and tainted, and he felt like screaming until his throat was sore. His red lips were trembling and he couldn't do anything to stop it, for all the control that he thought he had, and naked determination alone would not prevent his unsteady shaking hands. He pressed them tightly into his lap and swallowed the lump in his throat, determined to finish the trail of thought. He bit his lip so hard that a trail of blood trickled down his chin. 

Abel and Bunchuu felt what I'm feeling right now on Friday night, they must have. 

The How and the Why were answered so beautifully simply that he choked for breath. 

He needed his uncle here. He couldn't ever deal with this alone. 

Alone? 

"Jesus Kay, what's happened?" he faintly heard the swivel of the glass rotating doors, the hurried steps down the marble stairs and the concerned voice of his father. Karasu spun his son around to face him seeing a look on his young features that was rare and uncommon – a look of sheer horror and stupor. He hastily reached forward to wipe away the blood with his sleeve and drew his son in a warm embrace. Kaéry barely moved, allowing himself to be prodded by his father, and even in his father's arms he could barely respond to the warmth, his body unyielding to any comforts the world had to offer him. He didn't realize that he was biting the lapel of Karasu's suit to prevent himself from crying and sobbing like another twelve year old kid. 

Karasu ran his long fingers through his son's fine raven hair as one might to a distressed cat and pressed his lips to those cold and pallid cheecks. "Kay, you've got to tell me what's wrong – has someone hurt you? Tell me who it is, and I'll rip him to shreds. Kay, can you hear me?" 

"No dad, I think I'm frightened by a person who I think might exist." 

"You _think_ might exist? What do you mean?" 

Kaéry smiled, the previous chill from the fear gradually thawing under the knowledge that he had a truly loving father.   
"Thanks for the concern dad, but I'll deal with this." 

Karasu stared at him long and hard, gazing into artificially violet eyes brimming with intelligence. He saw his own reflection of concern, and how it had paled his complexion and tightened the muscles around his mouth in a grim line. 

"How about coming in for a cup of hot chocolate to get your blood running? Your fingertips are as cold as ice." 

"It's ok dad, but I'm going to find Xe. I'll be back home for dinner tonight." 

He disentangled himself from Karasu's worrying fingers and stepped further back, beaming a bright smile to indicate that he was fine. Only when his dad had disappeared back inside the building did Kaéry even dare to assess his own reactions. 

Now that I've had a chance to calm down, I have an urge to track down Illumi, hunt him, and make him suffer as I did just then. Is this how you felt Abel? Being the obnoxiously egotistical coward that you are, you'd suffer the same reactions as a twelve year old child. But now that I understand the How and the Why, **I'm in charge of the game** – it's Illumi who has to respond to me, not the other way around, as you felt compelled to do. What a simple, cardboard character you are Abel, and Bunchuu – your lack of nerve simply amazes me, almost beyond comprehension. 

Yes, Kaéry concluded whistling a merry tune, in the end, the game will always be mine. I'll enjoy the challenge Illumi-san, and I'm sure that show will be spectacular. 

Kaéry, unofficial Brat Prince, son of successful entrepreneurs Karasu and Lola, and himself an accomplished businessman, gave a small chuckle as he headed towards Fame Court.   
  


* * *

  
  


The bladed fan on the peeling ceiling was lazily doing circles, ragged circles struggling now and then as if out of breath. It used to be white, now a pale yellow and dotted with speck of brown rust. The window was open, and whatever small breeze could not shift the heavy red curtains, layered with dust and grime. They hadn't been washed for a long time. The small table beneath the window was strewn with a messy array of magazines, clippings and pictures of glamorous stars and actors with thick black texta markings all over them – particularly their faces. In one close up shot of Darien von Drosgen, the typical model shot with the unfocused, misty eyed look, a thick black text added massive eyebags beneath those seductive eyes (which had been rendered into snake like slits), nose hair was unashamedly sticking out of a fine elegant nose and fangs jutted out from the lips. Smooth, perfect skin was pockmarked with freckles, and unruly sideburns not seen since the days of Elvis were added to the sides of his face. 

Along the walls were a myriad of other pictures of beautiful girls – mainly from Serenity pictures, and all of them had small holes punctured in them. But behind the pictures, you could tell that the wall paper was also peeling, coming apart. They used to be white with art deco stripes to give a modern, stylistic look, but with neglect and abandonment, it was now a tea brown colour and silverfish had eaten away at edges. The floorboards were uncarpeted, revealing rotting planks of wood and a rust nail protruding here and there to catch bare feet unawares. From several prominent cracks, you could see the pipe networks twisting away and if all was silent and quiet, you could hear the waste gushing through the metal tubes. 

The blanket covering him would not even qualify for prison standards, so grimy and greasy that he didn't want to think about it lest it give him rashes. The pillow which supported his head stank of alcohol covering up for another smell that made him sick. He tried not to think about that either, nor the fleas that might also be sharing his bed. 

Illumi continued to watch the spluttering of the fan and told himself not to complain. At least there was a relatively stable roof above his head. For all he knew, he could have been bleeding to death on the streets, his dead body nonchalantly kicked into the gutters by the heartless people of the city. 

He wished that there was a mirror somewhere in the room, so he could see how badly his face had been screwed up. He didn't even dare to unbutton his shirt and see just how purple, blue and yellow his bruises had become. His ribs hurt like hell – at least three of them must be fractured. When he stumbled out of the Elysian, numbed by pain and in a daze, he distinctly remembered a fountain of blood gushing out of his nose that wouldn't stop. He just hoped that it wouldn't settle crooked. 

Mustering all his strength, one hand crawled out from the covers to dab cautiously at one blackened right eye. Two days ago it had been swollen that he couldn't even open it. The swelling had finally subsided, leaving a mightily sore area, doubtlessly purple, his right eye blood shot. 

He felt and looked like crap. He knew it. 

The door painfully creaked open. He couldn't see the door from his position, but knew that only one person would willingly live in a place like this. Hisoka had told him briefly, in passing, about a man who had become an outcast in the actor's community for a particular role that he took up. 

Fish Eyes, or a man who used to be known as "Dougy Cameron." 

Dougy was a painfully think and unkempt man. If he walked down the streets today, nobody would be able to recognize him, a villain whose antics and cross dressing that should have earned him godlike status ended up being shamed. Now, he chose to confine himself to exile and lived in squalor. 

His wraithlike form came into Illumi's view. The light shone on his greasy and matted blue hair – hair that was once wavy and full of volume, now just another mattered, defeated clump harshly tied in a messy pony tail. 

"I've been meaning to ask you something." Illumi said, watching Dougy ignore him as he set down his bag of magazines and begin to flip through them, absorbing the life that was denied to him. 

"Why did you help me?" 

Dougy crossed his legs gracefully on a shabby stool and flicked a few more pages of _Cleo _before lifting weary eyes onto his ruined face. He gave a small shrug underneath a Ralph shirt, three seasons out of date. He turned back to his messy table until he found what he was looking for. Illumi internally winced when he lifted out the (now) infamous Insider from a particular day last week. 

"You don't go messing with people as well connected as Hisoka." Dougy's voice was low and scratched, harsh and unpleasant on the ears. Whatever happened to the charming and devious lilting tenor that he originally possessed? 

"By well connected, I mean to a certain select group of highly fashionable and successful men in Anime City whose influence isn't in the film industry alone." 

"I don't understand what you're talking about." 

Dougy's chuckle sounded like a pot of rusty nails inside a tin can being vigorously shaken about. 

"You know very well what I'm talking about young man. You can't make a fool out of someone like Hisoka and expect to get away with it. Us actors have something called Code Duello – and it can be both fair and unfair. You watch your step in the future, and don't tell anyone that I pulled you from the gutters." 

He abruptly turned back to his work, his scissors working slowly and surely at more pictures, mainly to replace the maimed ones on his wall. Illumi stared intently at the man's back and felt the stirrings of something repulsively familiar inside his mind. A silent chuckle more venomous than any snake, more vile and corrupted than a serial pedophile worked its way in his mind, extending its rotten slivers and tendrils to control his thoughts. 

"I'm going to reward you for your help." Illumi spoke with a voice that did not sound like his own. Fish Eyes kept on working the pair of scissors and selected a scrap book from a desk drawer along with some glue. 

"My mother owns Fantasia, and I help design half the clothes. I am going to redo your image and turn your years hibernation into a life of glamour, camera flashes, red carpets and beauties clinging to your arm at functions and events. It all begins with your image – and I am the master of images." 

"And why would you go to all that trouble Illumi-san? Do you show such gratitude to each person who hands out their pity to you? Don't make me laugh." 

"I can do it Dougy. In a materialistic and fickle world as Anime City, you can become a fashion symbol, overnight, just like that." 

Cameron laughed aloud, putting down his work tools and turned to face the broken man on his bed. 

"I'm a pariah Illumi-san. No one wants to see me, no one in the right mind would want to be seen with me just in case my shame and degradation will rub off onto them. Some people will cross the street if they see me walking up the road from the opposite direction. Your position is doubtful and precarious as it is – are you trying to commit social suicide?" 

It was Illumi's turn to smile and Doug had to fight from feeling sick from the fright. 

"I know that there is someone, quite influential, who would never ostracize me, no matter who or what I become. So I can never tumble to your depths, rest assured. I can however, raise you up to the clouds so that even Abel has to look you in the eye and speak to you as another equal. How would you like that?" 

The man seated on the rickety stool studied Illumi hard, with the concentration and pain of a Russian roulette player who was deciding whether to pick up the gun or not. 

"What's in it for you?" he demanded harshly, knowing that irresistible offers were akin to signing contracts with the devil. Illumi's smile broadened. 

"Just that you remember who it was that helped you regain your feet. When I put you on the pedestal and elevate you to the status of admired and adored, you will be one of my good friends. I need contacts and connections if I'm going to survive in this city Dougy, and I've managed to royally screw things up at Hunter Works. So I do what a pragmatic man has to do – seek new and unexplored territory, or in your case, reviving old territories." 

Doug rolled his eyes. "And just what do you think I could do for you once I'm your official pretty boy on a fashion magazine cover?" 

"You've been out of the business for too long Doug. Let me refresh your memory." Illumi painstakingly pulled himself into an upright position. The pain in this ribs were like sharp needles plunging into his sides and his headache was throbbing so badly that he thought his skull had cracked. But he managed to look calm and collected, coldly calculating, a man who knew _exactly_ what he was doing. 

"Once you make headlines with your re-emergence, a new, snazzy and fashionable man with his charismatic wit and humour back, just your news salability alone will make you hot property. When you become the first man to wear the clothes of Fantasia's new brother store – Reverie, you'll find that a lot of your old friends will come sucking back to you again, hoping to rub off some of your new found good luck. I want you to introduce me to your old circle Doug. I need a power base to support me if I'm ever going to survive in Anime City – that's what I'm getting from you out of all this – your past connections." 

Dougy Cameron glared fiercely at Illumi. He hated having his hopes whipped up into such a frenzy like this, because he'd been disappointed just too many times, just too often. And the fall from such deflated expectations was too much than he could bear anymore. 

"Don't you lie to me Illumi." 

"You saved me Doug, and I am a person true to my word when I say I will reward you." 

The man nodded, although still dubious. People didn't just sit in a poor excuse for a home and conjure plans of fame and glory. He needed solid details to rebuild his shattered confidence. 

"Talk is all very easy. What's the first thing we do then? To make me famous and desired again?" 

Illumi's smile made Doug want to bolt – it was looking right in the face of a psychopath who had an absolute power and ability to crush you but wanted to toy around with your life for a while longer before he snuffed it out just because it was so entertaining. His eyes even quickly glanced over to the door and measured how many steps he could take to reach it before he forced his mind to concentrate on the promises and gifts Illumi was going to shower him with. It was his last chance at a revival, if ever, and if cost him his life, so be it. He hated living the way he did right now – rather death and stake your life with the devil for the last gamble at fame and fortune. 

"Give me a pen and paper. I'll give you my credit card. There are things I need you to buy for me, so that I can look presentable again. When I get home, I'll get all my designs ready and persuade my mum to open Reverie. In the meantime, you'll be living in a small, single bed apartment which I'll rent for you on Endless Parade. You will eat healthy and gain some weight, exercise to get some toned muscles. Your hair will have to be cut and I will exclusively control your wardrobe and arrange the photo shoots and talk to PR teams for advertisements – all featuring you. And that's just the beginning." He sneered with such sickly relish. And in a low and provocatively seductive whisper said "_What do you think Dougy_?" 

Ice may have formed around his heart, his blood may have stopped running and he wouldn't' be surprised if he wet his pants. Dougy Cameron had never felt such an intense fear and the adrenaline rush was pounding gallons of blood into his brain. Who ever was sitting on his bed, so ruthlessly determined, so meticulously calculating, all too knowing and arrogant banged every sort of chord of fear imaginable. He was stuck to his chair with his fingers gripped around the round edges until his knuckles had turned a frosty white. 

A pact with the devil for one last ditch effort at fame and fortune, glamour and glory. It's all worth it – he tried to tell himself and bit his lip to stop them from trembling. To stop him from whimpering. 

His throat was choked up and his tongue thick and clumsy, but he managed to utter "You have a deal." 

Illumi laughed aloud and clapped his hands childishly. 

Dougy Cameron wondered if his ears were bleeding.   


* * *

  
**Author's notes:**   
My god I've been away for so long I just hope people can be bothered to read the whole thing through again and remember where we're up to. Yes yes, complain about the lack of plot progress if you wish, but I'm trying to set up to something much bigger (or so I hope) so I hope the wait is worthwhile.   
Laste note - I've noticed that the story's taken a comparatively darker turn. I don't know if this is temporary or permanent - I haven't decided yet - so don't get so distressed! I'm not _that_ warped you know =D 


	10. Chapter 10: A good day, or just the quie

**Chapter 10**

**A good day, or just the quiet before a storm?**

It was Thursday already – one week of the suspension over Hisoka mused to himself, checking the time on his watch. 4pm – the actors would be occupied by the Director until six, and they'd all get shuffled off to the gym. He had two hours before his compulsory attendance was required as well. Damn – you really couldn't do much in two hours. 

In his boredom, he couldn't help but recall the frantic urgency felt by the rest of his co-workers during lunch. Over two matters to be precise, one good, one bad. 

The good was very exciting indeed – there was a new competitor in town, or will be. He had heard of the corporate giant a few days ago, at the Karaoke night when Karasu was muttering about the unfathomable reasons behind his twin brother's actions of late. He had never been friends much with Karasu's twin. In fact, it was popular opinion that you just did not get along with Salar because that man had a vile and twisted mind coupled with a sense of humor to match. He might be a model of what Kaéry could turn out to be, but no, that kid still had a lot of humanity left within him. Salar on the other hand, did not. 

Which helped to explain why the man didn't hesitate to leave Anime City behind in pursuit of greater glory under a new 'Master'. Hisoka felt disturbed – the director of this company must be some megalomaniac and control freak to require his 'subordinates' to address him as 'Lord'. Surely Salar was above that – above reducing himself before anyway at all, let alone some tycoon with too much money on his hands. There wasn't some darker, murkier relationship between them could there? His thoughts trailed off endlessly. Hisoka physically slapped his cheeks a few times to punish himself for soiling his own thoughts with the disgusting images. 

Salar, have a relationship with someone? God save us all. The man was the north pole incarnate. You felt cool standing next to him under the glare of a harsh summer sun. He treated his brother more like a business partner than a brother. 

The exception, of course there is always an exception, was with Karasu's wife. At one stage, it wouldn't have been unfair for people to mistake Salar and Lola as a couple. They were intimate with each other, openly affectionate, frequently seen with arms slung around each other's shoulders. Back in those days, Karasu's jealousy soared in leaps and bounds. He stopped buying magazines for a full six months and he became even more detached from his own brother – if they could be any more cold and formal towards each other already, sheesh. Lola on the other hand, was not the type of woman to give explanations either. She was headstrong, resolute and did not feel shame or regret in anything that she did, otherwise she would not have done them in the first place. Karasu knew better than to irk his girlfriend with repetitious questions, but that left him hopelessly and helplessly frustrated. Had he ever caught the pair in bed? How laughable –Salar finally deigned it upon himself (and for the soul of his poor brother) to explain to the Ex Club just exactly _what_ was going on, he casually said that he and Lola had formed a blood pact to become brothers. 

Brothers? 

Salar elegantly shrugged, gave a smile that didn't seem to reach his eyes and patted Karasu's cheek, telling him to mind his own business and leave his elder brother to lead his own life in his own way. 

Still, Karasu maintained his doubts and kept a firm watch over Lola as unobtrusively as possible. Four months later, he managed to get her pregnant and they married. Nine months later, when little Kay was born, his existence alone seemed to form a living barrier and obstacle to whatever strange 'relationship' Lola had with her, now, brother-in-law. 

Salar hadn't been the same since Kaéry's birth. At the few Ex Club gatherings that he did attend, there was a gathering cloud of sullen brooding on his brow. His famous stabs of wit and insults, humor at the expense of others, became less and less frequent. Sometimes, you could see him passing silent daggers at Karasu if he thought his brother wasn't looking. His ice blue eyes sometimes looked like they were calmly and quietly contemplating murder. Other times, he was somber and unsmiling face would stare off into a distance, caught up in his own thoughts and pity the poor soul who happened to disturb him. 

Lola sometimes turned up to the Ex Club gatherings, and Salar would be a totally different person. Hisoka didn't know if it was an act or not, whether the man was just pretending that he was still a part of the group and socializing with the rest of the men. His tight lipped smile and forced pleasantness was actually more reminiscent of a coiled cobra, ready to strike. Once, Hisoka caught him gazing longingly, almost painfully, at Lola, arm-in-arm with her husband, but quickly covered up with another gracious smile and raised his glass of champagne as Lola turned around, feeling someone watching her back. 

He didn't attended any social functions last year and less and less was heard of him. Only Kuroro the other day was bothered enough by Salar's quietness to raise the question to Karasu, and they found out that he had dumped Anime City behind him to work for Vallanor. A corporate group that looked poised to crush Anime City and remake it in its own image. Salar had known about Vallanor's intentions right? Why would he destroy a place that he'd spent most of his life? 

The bastard always had a twisted sense of humor. 

And during the Hunter actor's lunch break this afternoon, they caught a glimpse of the man who had remade himself into a 'General' of Vallanor. 

A large pavilion had been erected in the city park where he and Illumi had lay on the grass the other day, chatting without end. Don't think about Illumi! He growled, trying to reorganize his thoughts. The pavilion in the park was a surprise as the event had been kept under maximum security. Not even the newspapers' agents at the mayor's town hall had any clue what was about to hit them in the face. 

The tent stood out like an ebony monolith shimmering with silver wisps like endless trickles of water down the massive sides of the tent. Vallanor had come to Anime City, and Salar was spearheading the attack. 

He was off to one side, in an unnoticeable corner watching the ecstatic crowds mill in and out with showbags full of merchandise and information pamphlets from all the fancy stores and tables set up. He was dressed in a sharp, black militaristic uniform lined with silver. Even though it was summer in Anime city, he wore the trench coat like it was the most comfortable thing and stood straighter than a soldier at attention. He had…changed. Hisoka only realized now as he saw the image in his mind that Salar was now a much more…focused man. He had a goal now, a point that he had to reach, no longer drifting aimlessly, wasting his talents and skills around the likes of Legato and his ilk. He had lost weight and his cheeks sunk into horrid hollows on his face, only giving his features an even sharper look. When Salar turned to study the crowd, his eyes met Hisoka's briefly, and the jester couldn't believe just how cold and closed Salar had become. He felt like he was a stranger under the gaze, or an enemy who had to be studied and observed so that Salar could find ways to destroy him. It gave him the smallest insight into a man who no longer knew about kindness or mercy, compassion or love. Whatever he had done in Vallanor, it had stripped him of anything that made him remotely resemble a human, leaving behind only a determined, focused, single minded being with nothing but this one goal to live for. But Salar tilted his chin slightly when he saw Hisoka, in greeting, and smiled to show that he saw him too. It was a smile that foretold destruction. Hisoka hurriedly turned away and struck a conversation with the first person he saw just to fend off the spears of ice trying to dig into his bones. 

"Ah Machi – do you recognize who that man is over there?" he said loudly, just to be sure he still had his own voice and could hear it. "Salar's come back to town – you better tell your brother so we can get together and throw him a 'Welcome Back' party." 

The short woman glared at him irritably. She was busy testing out a new set of perfumes that Vallanor was promoting and enjoying every molecule of fragrance before Hisoka interrupted her with something inane. 

"Who the heck is Salar?" 

"Machi…" Hisoka mockingly said with reproach. 

"Hang on…that name is familiar…." She slipped the tester cards into a small plastic sealed bag provided by top class sales people and turned her full attention to her co-worker. Her eyes followed Hisoka's gaze across the sea of people to a tall, lean man with fashionably fine hair and handsomely archaic features who held himself in every way a gentlemen. 

"He looks like Karasu….OH! That's Karasu's older twin! I didn't know that he worked for Vallanor!" 

"Yup, he sure does now." 

"Do you suppose I could go up to him and ask for discounts on these perfumes? They are priced so damn high that my Hunter contract could probably only afford six bottles!" 

"Well," Hisoka drawled "you can ask him when you get your brother to throw him a welcome back party. I know a lot of other people who would also like to speak with him." 

Machi nodded firmly, but didn't say anything else as she flitted off with Shizuku and Paku to look at some dresses and the new season of autumn coats. Baffled, Hisoka trudged out of the tent and saw Killua with Senritsu, looking around purposefully. 

"Ah Hisoka!" Senritsu called out and madly gestured for him to go over. Not that he really wanted to, but the Director's son was with her, so he had to oblige. 

"Yes?" 

"You should be the first to hear this. Then decide what you will make out of the news later." The short woman said gravely. Hisoka nodded, not paying much attention but listened nonetheless. 

And that was the bad news of the day. More trouble. And he was somehow right in the thick of things. 

Hisoka walked down Endless Parade towards his own apartment, away from the busy scenery of the city, leaving the large black pavilion behind. He could still see the flag of Vallanor riding the winds with a wild kind of glee however. Sickened, he trudged along towards his shabby and run-down block of apartments, grinding his teeth as he allowed the bad news to replay in his mind. He didn't want to hear it, but some things you had to hear just so you could stay alive and survive. 

Word from the brat Killua was that Illumi was missing. At first instance, Hisoka had simply no idea how he could be responsible in any way. After all, _he_ was the one that had been attacked at Fantasia. It should be the other way around – _he_ should be the one avoiding Illumi, if anything else. But no, somehow, the newcomer had managed to twist his perverted little game to new degrees and angles in every passing minute. By vanishing, Hisoka was somehow to blame. 

_You are supposed to be chaperoning him – weren't those the orders of the mighty Director himself?_

Hisoka wanted to hit Leorio for saying that, but it wouldn't do any good to his image if he lost his cool in front of so many people. So he forced himself to be calm and began to compile a believable set of excuses and reasons for why he shouldn't be held accountable. 

I'm just a chaperone right? Just an escort to show him around the city. It's not like I'm a baby sitter – I don't owe him any responsibilities. He could have gone missing whilst I had my own private life to lead. You're not going to take away my private life now are you Director? 

Hisoka groaned – the likely answer was 'yes', given the Silva's reputation for being uncompromising. 

So the director was determined to take away his private life. But what if he said that it was Illumi who insisted on having some time off to be alone? Illumi wasn't around to contradict him anyway, and similar to an old Chinese proverb – dead, or rather missing in this case, people can't stab you in the back. 

You should not have let him out of your sight – is a very likely and very Silva response given that man's inflexible stubbornness. And his reply would be? Look Director-sama, I completely acknowledge the fact that when I signed up with you, you had every right to take away my personal life. However, Illumi does not seem to be under similar impressions – and you saw the newspapers already. Did you want the press to see me constantly hanging around Illumi? 

Brilliant Hisoka! Sheer, simple, brilliant genius at work! They could give you an award for that – just make sure you look slightly distressed at the news, but at the same time a bit indignant as to how the director could blame you for it. Then in generous kindness offer to look around the city with the other co-workers. 

The magician was so pleased with himself that he almost banged his forehead into a light pole but managed to stop himself just on time. The more he thought about his excuse, the more he thought that if all this 'nen' stuff from Hunter x Hunter was real, he'd _definitely_ be the Henka type. His acting and skills of subverting the truth were just too…brilliant – he'd already said brilliant right? Just no better word to describe his genius.   


* * *

  
  


**9:30pm – Toguro's Gym Lobby**

"Yes! Another gym session over for the rest of the week! How shall we celebrate?" 

"How can you celebrate at this time Hanzo? We have to get our priorities straight." Shizuku pulled out a clipboard with some paper and retrieved another pen from her bag. She sat down on one of the more cushy chairs provided by gym reception. 

"We have to commit ourselves to a systematic sweep of the city. I think we ought to split up into groups. Here, sit down and help me divide the actors whilst half of them are still preening in the bathrooms." 

The bald ninja cocked an eyebrow. "And how come you're not preening either?" 

"I have short hair." Shizuku responded primly and her firm silence indicated that she wasn't going to elaborate. So Hanzo shrugged and let her scribble some names down. He personally didn't think the other actors would agree to this whole search party idea anyway, even if Hisoka was embroiled right in the very thick of it. After all, it was Thursday night and they were allowed to be late on Friday mornings – milk these precious days for all it's worth. He disinterestedly studied the various plastic pot plants dotted in the corners of reception, sniffing at the tackiness and general lack of taste, then spied a very familiar figure stepping out of the elevators and heading towards the exit. 

"Kurei!" he called out. 

A young man who had just possibly just reached his twenties, exuded nervous energies and almost jumped as Hanzo called his name, frantically look about for the owner of the voice. 

"Over here Kurei!" the older man waved. The boy looked at him for one, longer than comfortable moment, with an expression of confusion. He cautiously approached the pair of Hunter actors. 

"Excuse me," he said in with the refined airs of a cultivated and highly well mannered gentleman. "But I don't seem to be able to recognize you. How is it you know my name?" 

"Don't be such a stiff Kurei! I met you briefly when I was still contracted to Hokage Village. You might have seen me in Yu Yu Hakusho as one of the contestants for Genkai's apprenticeship?" 

"Yu Yu Hakusho…as in the show that Flame of Recca shamelessly ripped off? Oh yes…I'm starting to recall you now…was it…Hanzo?" 

The ninja playfully frowned at him. "What happened to you man? Hokage Village was having fits and spasms after you left so abruptly. They had to find a replacement for you, and ratings have plummeted for Flame of Recca since. Your character wears the mask all the time, but everyone knows it isn't you." 

Kurei just nodded politely as Hanzo rambled on but sneaked a few glances at the clock on the wall, and fingered his own watch…only to realize that it wasn't there! 

"Excuse me – I must have left my watch in the bathrooms." He made a mad dash to the closing elevator just as another handful of Hunter actors alighted. Some curiously watched him madly jabbing at a button in the elevator, but turned around as the metal doors silently slid shut. 

"Hello! Shizuku? Earth to Shizuku?!" Paku was waving her hands in front of a seemingly petrified young woman sitting stiff as a rock on the couch. The pen had long ago slipped from her grasp. 

"SHIZU!" Paku half shouted into her ear, accompanied by bouts of rigorous shaking. 

The figure on the couch almost jumped up in fright as Paku managed to pull her out of her trance. 

"Wha?" 

"Yeah – Wha? I was just about to ask the same. What are you doing sitting there like you've just seen Medusa with your mouth open like that? Close it! It's unattractive!" 

Shizuku hastily clamped her teeth together and shook her head slightly to clear her head. 

"Did you see his eyes?" she murmured dreamily after a while, threatening to slip back into her previous, prone form. 

"Oh no you don't!" Paku snarled, then seized her by the elbow, almost dragging her up so that she was standing. You couldn't daydream half as well on your feet – empirical studies had proved it somewhere, so Pakunoda thought. 

"Shizuku, are you not feeling so well? Did you over-exert yourself at Taibo this evening?" Nobu stepped forward and placed a hand on her forehead. 

"They were like liquid pools of a indigo – so warm and kind and gentle. I was happily drowning in bliss – why did you pull me up?" 

Machi also stepped forth to study the dreamy gaze in Shizu's eyes with a certain amount of horrid fascination. They all began to crowd around her. 

"He was the most beautiful creature I've ever beheld. My soul will be his forever more. I just need to ask him to marry me now. I'll even transfer all my assets to him if he so desires." 

"Have you joined some crazy cult recently Shizu?!" Paku's voice began to creep with hysteria. "What's happening? You were fine in the showers just minutes ago! Shizuku – guys, get me some water – we've got to splash some sense back into her!" 

"Who is Shizuku-san talking about?" Gon asked from a fair way behind, unable to push through the crowds to get a better look. They all turned to him and said "Yeah, who's enchanted our no nonsense Shizuku?" 

The elevator dinged open again and more Hunter actors poured out. 

"Why's everyone still crowded in the doorway?" Phinx sharply asked, immediately sensing amiss by the way that the people were forming a circle around a particular object, or someone. He still had a small comb in his hand and was still midway in fixing his hair but couldn't do it in the bathroom because time was pressing on, whether you were ready or not. He sighed irritably, like the Dancho beside him and pushed past them all. 

Shizu was slack faced, even though it was not supposed to be possible when you were on your feet, and her eyes were more unfocussed than a drug addict high on coke could ever be. Drool was gathering on one side of her (open) mouth and frankly, no one wanted to help her wipe it away. She looked so frail and unsteady on her two feet that any nudge would tip her over. But even then, she was so caught up in some heavenly image of beauty that she couldn't have possibly noticed. People were stirring uneasily amongst themselves. Hanzo especially – he was with her only moments ago – and whilst he was talking to Kurei, someone must have fried her brains. 

Paku rapidly relayed all the information she could coax out of Shizuku to Dancho, and the older man scowled even more fiercely. 

"I've seen these symptoms before." He grated harshly with fevered anger. "It was after the first Sailor Moon season when my brother shot to fame. Girls would crowd outside our home sometimes screaming and yelling for him, and when he appeared, they all just quieted down as they drank in his image." 

"Even the drool?" Neon leaned in close to Shizu to get a better look herself. 

Kuroro's scowl darkened impossible. "Especially the drool. Has Darien been here?" he glared all around him instinctively like a prey who had just caught a whiff of a predator. 

"Dancho – she just said something about Hanzo's friend!" Neon cried out loud. 

All eyes gleaming deadly accusation swung to the man who was strenuously shaking his head. 

"I was just talking to Kurei a minute ago – some of you saw him push past you to get to the elevators. I haven't spoken to anyone else before you guys came down. The receptionist! She'll vouch for me." 

"Kurei? He's back in town?" Kurapika spoke up for the first time. "Didn't he leave after he accidentally offended Recca? In a hurry – if I remember correctly." 

"Yeah – he's back, dressed from head to toe in the latest fashions and the most expensive silks. Speaks like a social elite too." 

Kurapika reacted as if Hanzo had been talking about a complete stranger. "You sure that was Kurei? I remember working with him at the community centre looking after homeless and under privileged kids. He was never that well off, even after he got the contract at Hokage Village, and I always remembered that he stuttered. I always had to tell the other children not to laugh at him." 

The other man was going to argue some more but then the doors to the gym slid open, and everyone in the gym foyer felt as if the air conditioner had been turned on full blast. Gon fought from shivering. 

A man stepped in with infinite grace and control in his every movement. He was dressed in a black Armani suit that he seemed to be born in for he wore it with such familiarity and ease. Some instinctively fell back, but Hisoka and Kuroro made their way to the front. It made them feel safer that great slabs of muscle like Ubo, Franklin and Bashou also remained at their side. 

The leader of the Genei Ryodan took another step forward, separating himself completely from the group who had practically retreated to the farthest corner and huddled like frightened and bleating sheep. Ubogin snuck a quick glance and tried hard to tell his feet to stay firmly implanted where they were and not to get a rush of sensibilities and cower with the rest of the group. The pressure emanating from the man alone caused him to breake into a cold sweat. 

"Hello Salar." Kuroro said slowly, caution heavy in his voice. He wanted to make as plain as day to the man in front of him that his guard was up. There was no use trying to fool Salar – there was no such way. 

The cold and impassive man deliberately lowered his eyes to Kuroro a fraction too late as if to diminish his existence. 

"Drosgen." He nodded formally. "I heard that you broke away from your parents. So this is who you've joined." His sharp gaze swept over to the huddling troupe, eyes devoid of emotion or judgement, just intently observing them all like a wolf who had slipped into the chicken pen. They all felt like shooting ducks. 

"And I heard that you ditched Anime City behind to join some company called Vallanor." Kuroro said with equal steadiness. 

"Yes – things were becoming stale and stagnant around here. There was no novelty about this place any longer. I needed to see more, make use of my talents before I went crazy from the sheer boredom." Salar frankly admitted. He spoke softly, but each word had some mysterious force behind it that everyone easily heard it above the whirring of the fans or the radio quietly playing overhead on the PA. 

"This isn't the best place for a reunion. I'll send out invites in a few days time to announce my return to town, if anyone will come. Now if you'll please excuse me, I'm here for other business." 

He made past Kuroro without waiting for an answer and headed straight for the elevators. 

"I'm sorry sir, but it's patrons only from this point." The receptionist nonchalantly pointed to some gaudy yellow tape stuck to the stiff grey carpet. Toguro had been thinking about firing her because of her lack of enthusiasm and professional spirit on the job. Many people had complained about her general lack of care for anything, and she turned up to work each day as lifeless as a zombie. She seemed oblivious to the icy fires of Salar's stare, and surprisingly, the tall man didn't push the point. Against expectations, he cautiously stepped behind the yellow line and gave the receptionist a small smile. Some of her cluelessness drained away and her face paled a bit, but not completely. 

The elevator door dinged open again for the third time and a figure recklessly rushed out and crashed into the dreaded man. 

"Kurei." Salar said gravely, holding the boy steady to prevent either of them from falling over. Kurei blinked a few times, stunned momentarily, but when he recognized the voice, he jumped in fright and jerkily stood straight. Salar was still gripping his shoulders firmly to steady him and only let go when he thought it was safe to do so. 

"I left my watch upstairs back in the bathroom. I searched for it and – " 

"Come on, our table is waiting." Salar had turned around and was walking towards the sliding glass doors already, deciding to let this matter slip away. Kurei visibly brightened up and trailed behind the man. 

"My god! What a handsome little boy we have here." Paku suddenly stepped in front of Kurei so that he almost buried his face in her generous assets. He stumbled to a halt just on time before he could embarrass himself and starred in fright at Paku's predatory grin with widened eyes. 

Paku found herself being drawn into those bottomless indigo pools that beckoned and called to her soul, but years of seducing men gave her steel and determination not to sink as Shizuku did. She was the temptress and did the beguiling, never the other way around. But she allowed herself to express admiration. 

"My my, you do have gorgeous eyes." She whispered. Her hand shot out to cup his chin and tilt his head up so that she could get a better look. "and such fine skin too. Smoother than mine – do you bathe in milk boy? Have someone give you facials every day, a beautician to sculpt your eyebrows, a dentist to give you pearly white teeth? My gods," her voice dropped even lower. She felt the irresistible pull of attraction and it was getting harder and harder not to swoon and become entranced. "did some artist try to conceive perfection, then like Athena breathed life into his creation? You – " 

Kuroro's eyes widened impossibly with fear as Salar was standing behind Paku, one hand slowly ascending to grip her shoulder and pull her away. No! – he didn't want Salar to touch her! He didn't want Salar touching _anyone_ here! He tried to speak and move and his body seemed just so slow to respond. 

Cold fear hammered in Paku's body resounding most painfully in her belly and breathing became laboured and shallow. Her body was frantically trying to warn her of imminent danger from sheer instinct of survival alone. Kurei's enchantment over her suddenly severed, she was back in the real world and she threw herself to one side immediately, spinning around with incredible speed and hissing angrily like an feral alley cat to face her attacker. 

By then however, Salar had already left the building with Kurei running to catch up. 

"What the hell was wrong with me! Dancho! Explain to me what I was doing just then!" Paku raved, almost close to tears after she was certain that the strangers were out of earshot. "What was I doing?!" 

"Calm down Paku!" Kuroro desperately gestured for all the other women to help him comfort her. "Calm down!" 

"How can I calm down?! I stood there like some shameless nymphomaniac, a dominatrix wanting to consume this young boy! And Salar! I felt like he was going to stick a knife in my back." 

Veize had her arms around Paku's shaking shoulders and Shizuku had offered her the seat. Salar's presence had quite readily knocked her out of her previous trance. Pakunoda sat down and buried her face in her hands. 

"He was so beautiful." She said after a while, putting on a courageous face and trying to even out the hackles in her voice. "I felt like I was staring into the face of god but couldn't withstand his perfection and would die otherwise if I looked too long. Like a moth to a candle flame." Pakunoda sat there for some time, hands pressed firmly in her lap but her face slack and dejected. She waited for her breathing to steady, drawing in deep breaths. Finally, she gave a bright smile. 

"I think I'm ok now. So – where did we want to spend this evening?" 

"You sure you don't want to go home and lie down early tonight?" Menchi asked. 

"I think I'm fine. In fact, I need a bar and a martini. Lets get out of this place and never think about what happened here tonight ever again." 

"Agreed." All the people murmured.   
  


* * *

  
  


**Friday, 8:30am**   
  


"Boss-sama!" Mindy exclaimed from behind the counter. She was in the middle of fixing the pink silk scarf that came with her navy blue uniform when the first customer to step through the doors of Fantasia on Friday morning was Kikyou-sama's eldest son himself who had disappeared for almost a week. She threw her up in a shriek of joy and rushed towards him. 

"Boss-sama!" she called again, wrapping her arms around him. She wondered if he had suddenly hissed in pain or taken in a sharp breath, so she slowly untangled herself from him. 

"Kikyou-sama has been worrying for days about you Illumi-sama. Where have you been?" she immediately blurted out. 

"aww...look at you Mindy-chan. There's no need to get so worried – I am a grown man after all." 

Mindy sniffed a bit and rubbed her nose, beaming the brightest smile she had at Illumi. 

"Where's Linda?" 

"It's her day off today." 

Illumi nodded and looked around the store, surveying the racks of clothing with keen sight (although his right eye still stung like crazy). Sales were good it seemed. 

"So Boss-sama." 

"Yes Mindy?" 

"Where _did_ you go these past seven days? 

He gave a silver laugh unfettered by restraint and clear of worries. "I was in New York attending the catwalks for next season's clothes, getting inspiration and ideas." 

"At least you could have left a message." Mindy said crossly, reprimanding him as she helped him out of his coat. He went over to the counter and opened his shiny black briefcase. 

"See, even when I was on the plane, I was already coming up with new ideas. Mum will definitely want to have a look at some of these designs." 

The petite shop assistant inquisitively peered at the pictures from the other side of the counter and delicately creased her forehead. 

"Boss-sama, these are…mens clothes." 

"I know Mindy, I designed them." 

"But – " 

"Fantasia will be opening a brother store, hopefully before autumn kicks in. What do you think Mindy?" 

She looked at him blankly, blinking like an owl in broad daylight. 

"What about your own toy store Illumi-sama? If you try to set up the men's store, you won't have any time for what you want to do." 

"Of course there is time. I can manage – in fact, I've spent all my phone's batteries talking to promoters and advertisers, inquiring with the manufacturers to see if they have any extra labour to spare. Half of it is in motion already Mindy. I'll have enough spare time to do my own stuff – what did I tell you about worrying?" 

They shared small laughter for some time, studying the designs as Illumi laid them on the counter. 

"Oh – pass me the phone please Mindy – I have to call mum and tell her that I'm back." 

The youthful girl shook her head and gave a small sigh as she handed the receiver to Illumi. "You're going to cop an earful you know." 

He scoffed playfully at her statement and dialed the number with lightning quickness. "Bleh – I get it all the time anyway. I've had plenty of practice – I'm immune." 

"I wish I were too!"   


* * *

  


It was another bright day in Anime city with not a single fluffy white cloud in the sky. The sun beat down on the beautiful and attractive residents but they took full advantage of the sunshine and lounged in the open areas of the cafés dotted along the trendy streets for the fashionable. Others took to the park, sun backing on the stiff grass or chatting away beneath the shade of a tree. The Director had exhibited another rare bout of kindness – all the actors knocked off work at 1pm exactly. Lunch time – Anime city was alive with people, the mouth watering aromas of food came from all directions and everywhere your eye could see were good looking people. Where else would you want to be. 

"Yes!" Killua pumped his fist into the air as he raced down the street to catch up to the group of actors waiting for him. "I just got a call from Karuto! She says Illumi's back!" 

"Good for you Killua – now you don't have to put up her tantrums anymore." 

"Yup," Killua replied, giving Gon his cheekiest grin. "In fact, I'm so happy that lunch is on me today! Charge it to the company card and lets stuff our stomachs!" 

They were working on two of the OVA scenes today, cramped and confined in the artificial darkness of the studio when the warmth outside was just reaching out embrace them. Only five of the Genei Ryodan cast had to turn up today for the hotel scene just before Kuroro's kidnap. Senritsu was also involved again – she frequented the Hunter Works building more often these past few days as the Director really wanted to get the OVA out of the way, then wait for Hisoka's suspension to finish and fill in the scenes with him involved. The car scene had been particularly troublesome. Kuroro donned on his jet black coat lined with silver tipped fur (he loved the look, but didn't really want to admit it), then had to have a length of chain tightly wrapped around him. 

"How are you supposed to gag someone with solid chain?!" he complained, which was rare for him given that he was a professional actor from the age of five already. Paku, who had been sitting in a corner having finished her scene this morning, gave a small laugh but had enough sense to look away. 

"Don't worry Kuroro-sama. The chain's just got to stick on your face tight enough, you struggle against it slightly and given your brilliant acting skills, you can _make_ yourself look like you've been gagged. Remember, the camera loves you!" April said with unusual cheerfulness. But of course – good weather can do that to someone. 

"Toby, the lights! I'm not going to be able to see half of Leorio's face if you put those lights there! Move it that way…a bit more…" 

Meanwhile, Kurapika's face concentrated intently on the words of the script, making sure he had every last word memorized. The other actors all took things in their stride and never seemed to stress. He was the one who had to make a special effort just so he could keep up. He didn't want to sigh in case the Director heard. He guessed this was better than being stuck behind the counter at McDonalds serving rude and ungrateful customers. He made a few magazine headlines these days and was in good company. Got to work to keep things the way they are. 

Kurapika almost jumped up in fright as someone patted his shoulder. He turned around to see Senritsu give him a toothy grin and felt his heart start beating again. Damn – six months in front of the camera already, and he was still so nervous before each shot. 

Senritsu had her rabbit teeth fixed on by the make up artists and told Kurpika that he'll do fine – as always. 

"I don't know Senritsu." The teenager confided to her. "This is just…so not me. I mean, I'm supposed to literally go berserk in this scene and hit Kuroro! It says here on the script – in bold – that I **thwack** him hard. Thwack! I've never thwacked someone before! See – I had to check the dictionary to find out what it means and write it down in the margins just in case I forget." 

The poor boy looked so nervous that under the gaze of the bright spotlights, you could see a fine film of sweat covering his brow. 

"Keep it up Kurapika. This sort of nervous energy always gives you the best work. Have you discussed the scene with Kuroro yet?" 

The blonde set aside his script and rolled his shoulders to relax himself. 

"We talked about some bits at length, but right now, he's too busy with the chains. Oh Senritsu…I really have a bad feeling about this." 

"Kurapika, you haven't even got your red contacts on yet – go put them on, the Director looks like he's almost ready to start. Where's Leorio?" 

"Well dressed and ready to go!" the man said cheerfully behind them. He was being exceptionally friendly today – Senritsu just wished he'd try to be like this more often. Kurapika disappeared to get a transformation for his eyes, whimpering on the way to the make up rooms. 

"So Senritsu, it's one of your bigger parts today. Are you prepared?" 

Senritsu clasped her hands to her ears and put on a face of horror. "No – I don't want to hear this anymore! What kind of man can produce such terrible music of the heart? Nooooo!" 

Leorio cackled loudly and Paku, still sitting on her chair nearby with two boys at her feet had to clamp their hands over their mouths from laughing insanely. 

"Damn Senritsu – I hope I don't start laughing next to you." Leorio feigned wiping a tear. 

"You so much as even grin and stuff up my big speech, and we'll never be out before 1 o'clock." 

The cover was taken off the glossy black car, the cameras were in place, the Director raised his voice and called the people to their places. 

"We're cheering you on Senritsu!" Gon called out brightly. Senritsu bared her rabbit teeth at them, scowling viciously. 

"Don't you guys even DARE to squeak!" she growled, ignoring further hoots of laughter. 

Kurapika raced from the dressing rooms, clutching onto his wig in case it fell off. That's right – he was supposed to look like a female attendant, complete with blush and lipstick and frilled collar. 

"Get in the car, get in the car." Toby hissed, aware that the director was about to look their way. And so the scene got under way. 

The director clapped his hands and people got down to work. 

"Remember Kurapika – you're psychologically unstable in this scene – I want to see hints of madness and lunacy in your expression and voice." 

The blond squeaked a response, and the film got rolling. 

Kuroro was in his element, analyzing his precarious situation with casual calmness, talking to Kurapika about the value of the hostages and goading him to kill him. 

And then came the clinch phrase with Kuroro and his 'coffee break' analogy and Kurapika's first attempt at 'thwacking'. 

"Cut!" Silva called out sharply. 

Kurapika's hands shook like an old man with Alzheimer's disease. He could see Silva's disappointed face. 

"Where are my punches?" he demanded, stalking towards the car and peering in ominously. 

"I'm thwacking away sir! Honest!" 

"Can I have the dummy again? Kuroro – out! We've got three to four seconds where Kuroro's face is not on camera when you hit hiim. If Kurapika doesn't turn into a savage by the time the dummy is here, we're going to stay and get this right even if it means you're all OTing!" 

Some stage hands quickly transferred a Kuroro lookalike dummy wrapped in clinking chains. The real person hopped out of the camera's way and observed the performance. Kurapika was in the back seat, his eyes were a dull red, but computer enhancements would make them glow. He looked uncomfortable, looming almost horizontally over the defenceless dummy and shifted his elbows to make sure he had enough space. 

"Now Kurapika, I want you to imagine that this is the person whose guts you've hated for the past decade." Silva began. 

"But I don't hate anyone!" the boy immediately protested. 

"Damnit! How about: this man here has raped your sister and is now in chains before you." Silva's eyes narrowed and his voice dipped low into a hypnotic whisper. "Your beautiful kid sister Kurapika – her smiling face now scarred, bruised, ruined because of _this_ man in front of you. She sobs instead of laughs and she no longer plays with the other children in the playground. Instead, she sits aside and draws disturbed and twisted pictures, talks to people who aren't there." There was a nasty grin on Silva's face as he drew even nearer to the boy. 

"She doesn't recognize you anymore, doesn't recognize your mum or dad. And it's all. Because. Of. This. man." 

The blonde teenager's breathing rapidly increased as he tried to solidify such terrible images in his mind and rage began to tingle in his veins. His face scrunched up with violent anger as he fuelled it on with impossible images of brutality. With a vengeful growl, he launched himself at the mannequin, beating his fists on him like there was no tomorrow. 

Silva urged them to roll the film whilst Kurapika did everything from bite, scratch, punch and jab at the doll. He burned out in one minute and fell back on the seat, huffing and puffing. The director of Hunter Works clapped his hands. 

"Spectacular. Great work Kurapika. Just hold on to those thoughts a while longer ok? Kuroro – get back in the car!" 

The bewildered and breathless boy nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat. The director told him to hold onto his anger. His script had written in bold **barely restrained anger** in some parts of the car scene – got to remember that. Be restrained when Leorio and Senritsu talks. Kuroro had his 'what were Ubo's last words' conversation – **barely restrained anger** Kurapika! He reminded himself with fanatical zeal. 

"Ok – we'll get up to the part where Kurapika is on the phone to the Ryodan again, then go back and focus on Senritsu's speech. Cameras!" 

Senritsu got her moment. She perfected the 'staring off into the distance meaningfully' look and held trembling hands about her head. She stirred emotions of disbelief in her voice and it steadily increased in volume towards the climax! 

"How can a man possess such terrible music? How can a man live his life knowing that it could end the next minute and not give it a care in the world? I don't want to hear this anymore! I don't want to hear either of you anymore!" 

"CUT!" 

Leorio erupted into irrepressible laughter just as the Director ended the scene and he kicked at the useless pedals and pressed the car horns. It seemed that the other observing actors were suffering similar reactions. Even Senritsu herself was clutching her stomach hard. She did it – it was over acting, but it would sure as hell fit into the atmosphere the editors would finally be able to create, and she managed not to think about Leorio's grin as she performed one of her most important parts. 

"I can't believe how successful this has been today. All right – day's over – get out of my studio." 

Downstairs in the foyer, they all commented on each other's performance and congratulated each other's efforts. 

"Senritsu, that was truly magnificent work there. The director will probably give you more lines next time." Kuroro nodded beside her. Senritsu positively sparkled – to be commented by such an old hand and professional in the industry was recognition enough. She could swoon. 

"Paku, why are you still in your costume anyway?" Kurapika asked as they stepped out into the open sun, squinting whilst their eyes adjusted to the bright lights. 

The voluptuous woman gave him a sly look. "Because I look good in it." 

"Ahh..Killua-sama, there's a phone call for you." The receptionist called the child back. He told his friends to meet him down the end of the road and would catch up shortly. 

"Righto. Machi, Nobu and Shizu should also be down there as well – pity they decided to leave after their scene this morning. They missed all the good bits." Dancho commented. "And as always Kurapika, your acting is brilliant. I could have sworn that you were going to hit me at any moment when I sat next to you in that car. Imagine that – you, unfriendly. Those two words just don't mix." 

The blonde produced a weak laugh and his shoulders slumped. "It's over – and the director's probably going to get me to do it again so he can obtain more angles. I still can't believe I was able to get so angry." 

"When the Director puts his mind to it, you can't not be angry." Paku said, and they all nodded in agreement. "Hey Gon – your neck ok? The director _did_ say to lift you off the ground that way." 

Small fingers reached up to a tender throat and gently stroked some faint marks. Gon smiled and shook his head. 

"It's all professional – I understand Paku. My super bitch manager Mito sure was having fun last night when we were preparing me for it. I bet she loved the sensation of being able to wring my neck." 

"Sensation of my hands wringing Killua's neck – yes. Yours, no." Leorio added. People emphatically murmured in agreement. 

And that was when the albino child ran down the street with the good news. 

"Kurapika!" 

Gon, with the sharpest eye sight out of them all, gasped in horror. 

"Pakunoda, get out of here! It's that guy from the gym last night!" 

They saw a well dressed figure rapidly closing the distance towards them. He was wearing a crimson polo shirt and a pair of Levis. His fine black hair was tossed about even with the slightest breeze. From far away, you could already appreciate the glowing alabaster skin and be seduced by the smooth and soothing voice. 

"Kurei?" Kurapika walked a few paces away from the group and hesitantly gave the man a wave. He looked back at his co-workers, unsure as to how to proceed. 

"Just find out what he wants and get us out of here!" Killua hissed, then immediately put on a blank face as Kurei reached Kurapika. 

"Hey Pika!"   


* * *

  
**Author's notes: **beta reader? almost zilch. Cliff hanger - I try.   
If people DO want to comment and say they liked/disliked the story, I would _really_ appreciate it if you could also tell me _why_ you liked/disliked the story so far. And could people please give me their ideas and impressions of my original character Salar? He's here to stay, for good or bad, and now's the only time you'll probably get a say if you don't like him =D 


	11. Chapter 11: Killua, how can you be so bl

**Chapter 11**

**Killua! How can you be so blind!**   


Kurapika felt light headed standing in front of this person completely different from the stuttering teenager he used to work with at the local community centre. Kurei could easily be described as riding on the epitome of 'cool'. He dressed cool, looked cool, knew what to say to sound cool and with the Ralph fragrance clinging to his crimson shirt – even as actor to fellow actor, he made you see him in a respectful light. He raised one hand in greeting, the other casually tucked into his front jeans pocket and gave a smile that could charm the apples out of trees. 

"Hey Pika! I saw you last night at the gym and all, but didn't get time to say hi you see because I didn't want to keep my mentor waiting or anything." His slightly lazy speech and boorish approach threw Kurapika into a greater maelstrom of confusion. Now_ this_ was more like the Kurei he used to know. 

"Why aren't you…you know…" he struggled for each word, trying to phrase a sentence that would sound the least intrusive or offence. "…different." Kurapika mutely groaned at how pathetic and lame he sounded. Couldn't he be a bit more like Phinx with his natural grasp for words? 

He got a hearty slap to the back. 

"Come on Pika! I only do the whole 'different' act in front of my mentor and strangers I don't know." 

"He knew what Kurapika was talking about." Killua whispered incredulously to the rest of the quietly waiting group just two steps behind their blonde co-actor, wondering whether they should politely chat amongst themselves to appear that they weren't tuning into a private conversation, or meaningfully stare off into different directions whistling small tunes – preferably in harmony. 

"Birds of a feather flock together." Senritsu murmured, opting for the looking away in another direction approach. Although he couldn't see her face, Killua knew that there was a slight grin in those words. 

"Ahh!" Kurapika said loudly, hoping that by half shouting, you couldn't tell that his voice was shaking with nervousness. "I see…er…you've lost your stutter as well." 

"My mentor beat it out of my system…literally at times." A grimace distorted the perfect face, but the more he conveyed human expressions and emotions, the more flawed he seemed and everyone began to get comfortable with his presence. Kurei's overwhelming pressure to humble them with his sheer perfection was flickering like a candle flame caught in the midst of a typhoon. Kurapika's hesitancy gradually slipped away and two minutes later, Kuroro was listening to the conversation between two commoners who most likely had not finished their high schooling. Well, Kurapika was struggling to get past his year eleven studies and Kurei…who knows what he'd gone through? 

"So mentor has washed himself clean of work for the next month at least. He's not going to look at a single stack of papers, which means I get more free time. I thought that since I was back in Anime City, I should catch up with some of my older friends…not that I have many around these days." 

"The children always ask where you are." 

"Really?" Kurei looked away with a tinge of melancholy and dejection in those intriguing blue eyes, his voice just a bare whisper above the winds. 

Then his stomach growled angrily. 

"How embarrassing!" he exclaimed, one hand immediately rubbing the complaining area accompanied by unashamed, bubbly (air-headed) laughter. 

Kurapika looked back and forth between Kurei and the group, trying to convey to his Hunter friends a hidden message they couldn't decipher but the rise and fall of eyebrows alone. Leorio gave him a flat, uncomprehending look which made the blonde fluster. 

"We were just about to go and grab lunch – it's on Killua today. Could he…I mean would you…like to come with us?" he said, the sentence broken and directed at two peoples with jerky swings of the head. 

Ah…the actors all understood in a flash of light. Their group mind came together and began communicating on another completely different level. 

_It's all up to you Paku_ they cast side glances in her direction. _Only say yes if you're comfortable._

_Gees you guys nag like my mother_. The busty woman rolled her eyes. _I can handle myself ok?_

_You heard Paku, Kurapika_, Dancho projected the message forward on behalf of the crew by giving an almost imperceptible nod. 

The dense kid nodded emphatically and turned to give Kurei an enthusiastic smile and a thumbs up at the rest of the group behind his back, just having obtained the consent of his other peers. 

"Umm…sure…but that's only if it's ok with your peers." Kurei said, eyeing them all with a degree of caution in his eyes and reserve in his stance. He didn't want Paku to pounce on him again, the memory of being rooted to the spot by a woman with overpowering aura of sexuality and femininity nearly gave him an apoplexy. He was suffocated by her womanliness and her rich perfumes. She was like a lioness on the prowl, eyeing him with such hunger that his legs were screaming at him to run to the safety of his mentor, or up a tree for that matter, just what happened to be closest. If his mentor had not turned around to rescue him, he may have been thoroughly violated through and through in a night of mindless orgies with a woman whose name he didn't even know. He felt uneasy about her still, but the man in the black t-shirt beside her, the actor who carried himself about with the full airs of a leader, should be able to keep her on a very short leash. Aside from Kurapika, Kurei was familiar with the face of Kuroro – he grew up watching that man's movies. The rest…he had no clue. 

"Oh they're fine with anything, right fellas? Let me quickly introduce you to each other." Kurapika pulled Kurei closer to the group, the other young man stumbling a bit behind him. Kurapika gestured to each of his fellow actors, providing their names as he went alone. 

"This is Kuroro, you must know him for sure. This is Leorio; this is Senritsu; this is Gon – our main character at Hunter works; and Killua – Director Silva's son; and…er….you met Paku the other night." 

"Nice to meet you all." Kurei extended a hand and a flurry of handshakes ensured. Pakunoda and Kurei still scrutinized each other with great caution. Kuroro finally understood why. Both were the ultimate symbols of attraction – in their own way – Paku, with her overpowering sexuality and Kurei with his enchanting, flawless features. They were at the peak of their 'art', so to speak, at the very zenith of their field and styles. It's just that no one could have ever imaged the two worlds colliding together, like two fierce magnets – would they repel or become attracted to each other? The answer was pretty obvious – neither trusted the other, and it was apparent that neither were going to get along unless there was outside interference. Were they subconsciously trying to outdo the other? To prove that one of them was the best? Kuroro was familiar with Pakunoda's thoughts – she had a wildly competitive streak that was barely camouflaged and concealed by her outlandish haughtiness. Kurei…reminded him of a clumsy, fumbling kid who wore expensive clothes and didn't feel comfortable in them. It was hard to tell just who the boy exactly was, and what he was thinking. 

He couldn't bring himself to trust anything that had connections with Salar. Not after the confrontation last night at the gym. He thought that it was strange that he had chosen to interpret the meeting as a 'confrontation'. Truth be told, he was never Salar's friend, but they moved in the same circles together and saw each other often enough to be classified as mildly close acquaintances who didn't really have much to do with the other but had no enmities between them. And besides, Salar didn't have friends – not because he was unfriendly or too damn proud to have friends, but because he…just couldn't. He was aloof, distant to everyone else on just every damn plane. You could never engage him in conversation because his millions of thoughts were rocketing away in his mind at god knows how many light years per minute, and in turn, he probably didn't have much to say to you that you would understand anyway, not unless you desired to acquire an acutely painful headache to the left side of your brain. 

Kuroro remembered a few years back that he had attended one of Lord Hades' lavish parties held in one of his upper Elysian ballrooms. The frescoed ceiling of naked nymphs prancing through forests, bathing in sparkling blue lakes and Adonises posing on various cotton white clouds was adorned by massive chandeliers – a marvelous latticework of spires and tears of crystal held together by gold and silver. Women always arrived in fancy ball gowns from Channel to YSL, decked in glittering diamonds, and men were denied entrance if they wore anything less than full tux with coat tails. Back in those artificially beautiful days of high class society gatherings and masks and punch that could knock you out with two glasses, classical music was regarded with respect. And personal performances guaranteed you admiration and jealous whispers behind your back for the rest of the night. Kuroro thought of himself as a good flute player. He expended a lot of time and effort into the preparation of that particular night's performance and had to arrange the people to play the Bach concerto for two flutes, harpsichord and a small string orchestra. The gathering of the elite and high society applauded him after the performance with more than usual vigour and he was entitled to smile with pride that evening. 

Salar frequently performed – he could play any piece ever composed for the cello – from solo cello suites by Bach, the simplistic and elegant concertos of Haydn or Morzart to the devilish late romantic works by the likes of Paganini. On that particular occasion, he played a self composed piece using only the first five notes of the C Major pentatonic scale along with a simple piano accompaniment. The moment the hair of his resined bow touched the string and the first note whispered into existence, Kuroro was forcibly ripped from the extravagantly lavish ballroom into an unreality of a world so simplistically beautiful that salty tears stung his eyes, even from the faint memory of those lilting notes echoing so painfully wondrously in his mind. For the duration of the piece, he pictured himself in a grassy plain that stretched on without end in all directions. He saw himself lying on his back chewing on a piece of grass, listening to the crickets chirping and watching a pack of swallows glide across the boundless blue skies in V formation. The wind blew and the tall grass around him rustled with gentle sighs. He lay there, finding utmost fascination in studying the passing clouds alone, or to sit under the shade of an apple tree and rest his head against the rough and uneven bark of the trunk, content to listen to the music of time. 

People didn't clap after the song ended, it wasn't the type of piece that demanded applause. In fact, a lot of people felt and acted quite awkward and confused afterwards, most likely because they'd been force to confront their real and true inner selves and for the duration of the song, had to abandon their pasty masks of plastered smiles, makeup and phony small talk. Forced to see and appreciate their own souls and unable to pull away. Perhaps some people saw things that they didn't wish to see, unhappy being reminded about who exactly they were, the person they tried to forget in order to become someone else. 

Kuroro found that Salar had retreated to the bag room and from a distance saw him carefully packing his cello away into its travel case. Mustering enough courage he approached him and asked him for the name of the song. Salar looked at him for a long moment to confirm that Kuroro was not drunk and was sincere in his question before he, almost reluctantly, responded. 

"Sanctuary." He sighed, turning away bending over to check the buckles and clasps on the case to make sure the instrument was secure. "The place where your soul began when you were still in your mother's womb, and the last place you'll visit before you die. It's our own construction of Elysian, rooted deeper than the subconscious, down all the way into the back brain and undermind." He sighed and stood up straight, turning to face him again. 

"Rather useless piece actually – retreating to a paradise never got anybody's problems solved. What was it like to be allowed a glimpse of your life's final destination?" 

Salar's wane and cynical smile was tinged with great emptiness, and then he took his cello and left leaving Kuroro to come up with an answer, the fading echo of his footsteps bouncing off the marbled walls as his only accompaniment. So many years later, whenever he had a few moments of peace and silence to himself away from the hectic life around him, he'd ponder on the question but was no closer to the answer, any answer. 

Almost tripping over a particularly uneven path blasted away the grey clouds of yesterday's memories. Kuroro realized that they had already reached Gladis' Café and quickly checked to make sure that no one had noticed his pathetic day dreaming. His eyes felt moist and wet – on the pretence of yawning and rubbing his eyes, he quickly dried them. Inside the restaurant, some of the other Hunter actors were already there sipping out of large glasses of milkshakes and had reserved them seats for lunch at the Café, the largest table at the patio out the back under the sun. 

"How was the scene?" Nobu waved to get their attention. Machi and Shizuku looked to Kuroro in alarm when Kurapika introduced Kurei to the three of them. He gave a an almost undetectable shake of the head. 

_Don't worry – he's harmless._

_Oookaay…if you say so Dancho _– Machi flatly glared at Kurei, still uncertain. 

"Senritsu, give us your part again." Leorio grinned at her. "But pity you had to take out the rabbit teeth though – I thought they suited you quite well." 

"Go to hell and die." Senritsu replied evenly and instantly without breaking the rhythm. Well, the bout of friendliness that the tall man had shown earlier was, and she reiterated to herself, uncharacteristic and infrequent. The return of the nasty implications was as inevitable as tomorrow's sun. 

"But Leorio's got a point. I swear that my part is more comedy than pathos. I'll bet that once they echo out my voice and put in the background music in, I'll look a little more serious." She scoffed whilst pulling out her seat and neatly placing the jacket on the back of the chair and hanging her handbag on the chair's handle. 

"And Kurapika showed us some pretty neat moves today on a dummy – note to self: don't ever anger this boy." Paku said with a grin. 

Few eyebrows shout up in disbelief and when Shizuku looked to Machi to see if the other girl believed Paku's words, the golden eyed girl merely shrugged. 

"So Kurei," Nobunaga ignored his fellow female compatriots and intently studied the newcomer "I see that you're hanging around Salar now. What's the deal?" 

Kurei set aside the menu. "What do you mean by deal?" he asked, puzzled. 

"Oh come on, don't play innocent. No one in their right mind would want to hang around Salar even if he paid them." 

"Don't offend my mentor like that." Kurei drew back on his chair defensively, a crease on his fine brow. His hands clenched onto the handles of his seat tightly, body taunt and ready to respond to any reaction. 

"I was meaning to ask earlier," Kuroro interrupted the conversation. "exactly what do you mean by 'mentor' anyway?" 

Kurei was clearly suspicious and bordering on obnoxious now. "Exactly what the word 'mentor' means." 

"You mean…like a teacher?" 

"Yes Nobunaga-san – like a teacher." Came the acid reply. 

"And what does he teach exactly?" 

"Look, is this an interrogation or something? If you're trying to extract confidential information out of me, then I'm afraid I'll have to leave. If you're trying to imply nasty and unpleasant accusations against my mentor, I think I have better places to go." 

Kurei stood up angrily with disgust. The chair's legs scrapped against the granite ground and almost toppled over from the force. Kurapika's reached out and pulled Kurei back. 

"They don't mean any offence Kurei – honest. Please don't get angry." 

"Chill dude – Nobunaga's breath can knock anybody out from a mile away. He usually doesn't think before he speaks, and even if he does think, words tend to sound unflattering and vulgar." Killua easily ignored the samurai's glare and continued. "Perhaps Nobu would like to explain the situation – exactly what _are_ you interested in that man looking for Kurei last night at the gym anyway?" 

"You explain Machi. Killua finds my breath offensive." Nobu huffed and sulked, pushing the floating bricks of ice in his drink disinterestedly. 

"You're young kiddo, so thank your lucky stars that you are oblivious to some things." Machi took a long sip out of her drink and didn't hide her loathing for the subject she was talking about. 

"Salar and his twin brother Karasu are about five years older than my brother. When Hisoka and Legato still found it fun to get themselves totally pissed and thought that pub crawls were god's gift of recreation to man, Karasu was already shooting to fame as the bomb wielding youkai in Yu Yu Hakusho, had his business up and running already, a trophy wife and son. His brother on the hand – " 

"Salar is a genius." Kuroro again broke into the foray to diplomatically neutralize any _pointed_ opinions that Machi might have expressed as her tone was steadily beginning to drip with utter contempt. Which was curious – she was a tad bit too young herself to understand the situation. Kuroro suspected that it must have been her brother filling in the details and gaps for her with tainted versions and biased views. Hearsay – the bane of reputation. 

"He's always been very, very bright. He was the best in anything that he did, if he decided to put his mind to it. NASA already wanted to recruit Salar when he was fifteen. I heard it from my parents back then that Salar had been posting up suggested modifications and upgrades to rockets on scientific forums for feedback and comments. Apparently, NASA was greatly interested in his ideas for an overhaul of rocket propulsion technology which proposed to turn to a more fuel efficient method and was also far less costly. So they came here to Anime City but found a fifteen year old lanky teenager who enjoyed slamming out beta code in his spare time and furthering dimensional mathematics that would have the professors at MIT cringe in their boots and the dead ones toss in their graves. 

"Salar told them to go away and stop bothering him. He said that to various other federal security agencies too – he would have made a great code breaker or constructed an impenetrable security program if he felt like it. But no one really knows how Salar thinks, not even his own brother. In the past few years, he's been especially…erratic – dabbling in one unrelated thing after another without much interest. Then all of a sudden, he left Anime City without saying a word to anybody. Hisoka supposedly filled the space he left as the 'wild card' around here, but now that your mentor is back, a lot of people are twitching and nervous." 

"And what do you expect me to tell you?" Kurei asked cuttingly. 

"Nothing that you aren't willing to give. I can perfectly understand that Salar has filled you with dozens of threats if you so much as gossip about him. So instead, why don't _you_ tell us about _yourself _and how you came to meet Salar instead?" 

"Bullshit." Kurei snarled at the infuriatingly reasonable tone in Kuroro's voice which implied that he felt no guilt or shame in blatantly gossiping behind someone's back. "I don't have to tell you fucking nothing. My life is my own, and I don't need to tell that to anyone." 

"Ahh…Kurei, Dancho just wants to know what you've been doing lately. I mean, like…what did you do to get Recca so angry that you had to skip the city?" 

Kurapika pulled Kurei back down in his seat and tried not to wince at how angry the pale young man's expression had become. Kurapika was always the last resort – the person they called in the salvage the most unfriendly of situations. Talking about Recca helped to distract his old friend and there were mute sighs of relief – disaster averted. The buxom waitress arrived with all their drinks before Kurei could respond. She set out a particularly large Oreo ice-cream sundae in front of him, bending down low enough to lower the tray and to give him a generous view of her cleavage and battered her smothering lashes at the same time. Kurei, momentarily caught off guard by the mountain of ice cream piled in front of him, managed to stutter a small thank you coupled with a smile that sent the waitress swooning. There was a folded piece of paper neatly tucked under the glass. In his curiousity, Kurei unfolded the note and blanched. 

"Wow – that's pretty forward." Killua commented, leaning in from Kurei's left to read the contents of the message. The details included the waitress' her mobile phone number, her address and the days and times she was free. Kurei didn't have the heart to scrunch up the paper because he knew the waitress would be watching him and he wanted to avoid hurting anyone's feelings. So instead, he folded the paper up neatly again, meticulously along the creases, and tucked it into his shirt pocket. He patted the pocket with the rustling paper inside and grimaced. 

"Yeah – this is one of the reasons why I had to leave Anime City so fast. You know how they hold those young teen actors conventions each year? In the first, and last, one I attended, I got about two bags full of notes like these, some from women three times my age!" he shivered at the recollection. 

"Recca saw me with literally a whole bag of them, and that was bad enough. It was supposed to be the promo year for Flame of Recca, which stars _him_ as main character, not me." 

"He got jealous huh?" Killua grinned mischievously. 

"Darn right." Kurei gave a dejected nod. "At the whole promo and convention, all these girls, and some guys, were crowding around me and cooing over me – much like what Paku-san did last night. And one of them was – " 

"Let me guess this one!" Gon raised his hand as if he were in a class. "It was Recca's girlfriend, wasn't it?" 

Killua hooted with laughter and congratulated Gon on his dazzling insight. 

"It's actually worse than that. Recca had confessed his so-called 'love' to Misao earlier that day but she had rejected him because she had her heart set on 'someone else' and when he found out who this 'someone else' was…." 

Even Nobu had to laugh at this. He leaned forward and clapped his hand on Kurei's shoulder. "Good for you kid! You have no idea just how annoying and objectionable the younger generation like Recca or Duo have become these days. They think they own Anime City just because they've got good looks. It never once occurred to them that to be an actor, you've got to know how to act. They must have skipped that part in their teachings." 

"Mentor calls them Orchids – pretty flowers that fade and droop within a week of flowering. It equally applies to people with insubstantial fame who fade just as quickly as they rose to glory. In time, another similar show featuring a new group of well dressed mannequins will take their place and people will forget that Quatre and the like ever existed, or remember them only as 'the out-dated guys'." 

"How profound." Shizuku remarked dreamily with stars in her eyes. She was leaning with her elbows elbows on the table and her chin cupped in her hands, openly gazing at Kurei. Machi rolled her eyes at her co-worker's lack of resilience and resolution – but it did beg the question: why wasn't Kurei affecting her as he managed to affect Shizu? 

"Er….yes….so you see, it wasn't hard to work out that Recca would be pulling strings and calling in favours from people high up to have something nasty done to me. Besides, Mentor wanted to leave Anime city, so I naturally packed my bags and left. This is the first time in two years that I've been back in Anime City – it's changed considerably." 

Machi irritably gave Shizuku a nudge with her elbow after the latter echoed some similar sentiments to Kurei. 

"All right – I'm going to classify you as officially dangerous." Machi declared. "We have one young and impressionable girl in our cast who's recently become increasingly aware of boys. You stay well away from Neon, on pain of death, do you understand?" 

All the men chuckled humorously and only laughed aloud when Machi shot daggers from her eyes at them all. 

"You guys talking about me?" a sweet voice rang out from behind them? 

Machi froze – _Oh no _she thought, _another sheep to the slaughter house._

"Menchi-neesan and I were just at Fantasia to pick up our dresses after the alterations and – " 

Neon stopped dead and her bundles of shopping fell ungraciously to the ground in a collapse of large cardboard bags and the soft rustle of crepe paper wrinkling inside. Her large blue eyes were intently fixed on the stranger sitting at her co-workers table, a perfect marble sculpture turned into life with a crop of glossy black hair, glowing alabaster skin, depthless blue eyes and the perfect facial features. A pink blush fired up her pale cheeks, the same hue and colour as her hair. She wet her lips and they openly trembled. A small whimper slipped past them. 

"Neon-chan! Watch what you're doing! Those clothes are expensive, you don't just dump them on the ground like that!" her sister exclaimed. "Now hurry up and pick it up and take a seat." 

Menchi shook her head at her ditzy younger sister's back. Always picking up her mess, she thought affectionately. 

"Neon – " 

"Marry me!" she squeaked 

"What the heck?!" 

Her often and supposedly shy and timid sister sprang forward and Menchi sucked in her breath in alarm as she recognized the extra figure seated amongst the Hunter actors. It was the boy from last night at the gym who had Shizuku rendered into a stupor and the domineering Paku hysterics. In the meantime, Neon had flung herself at Kurei and locked her arms around his neck, holding on even tighter and refusing to release him when Kurapika and Nobu's struggled to pull her off. 

"…help…" Kurei choked, helplessly pinned underneath. Neon was too busy kissing every inch of his face, and however Kurei tried to think of pushing her off would land his hands on very inappropriate places. 

"Mentor……" he croaked helplessly for the help that was not around. The sounds of Nobunaga and Kuroro grunting in frustration became increasingly distant to his ears as the blood flow to his brain was slowing down. The pressure around his neck was unbearable. "…mentor….help…" His dying vision caught a pair of glossy pink lips closing in on his own. Turning as far away as he could, Kurei clenched for the eyes in damned horror and wished that it would all be over soon. 

Neon's body weight was suddenly lifted off him and Kurei slumped in his white plastic chair, gasping for breath and muttering hallelujahs under his breath. Sweet air filled his lungs and he groaned with relief, one sleeve already working away at smears of lip gloss planted all across his face. 

"Oh mentor…thanks for getting –" 

But it hadn't been his mentor who had saved him. It was another man who had come to his aid, now attentively fixing Neon's clothes straight. He wore a black suit with a silk navy blue tie on top of a pristine white shirt. Long hair like a brocade of midnight silk on milky pale skin was an aesthetic beauty much like his own complexion. His soft, almost feminine voice was hypnotically soothing. 

"Neon-chan, you forgot the belt that goes with that silver dress! The belt is very important and the pretty buckle helps to contrast – " 

The young girl started as she recognized who the man was and fearfully scrambled away, half hiding behind her sister, hugging herself hard as if to protect herself. 

"Don't touch me you psycho." She said in a small voice and took another further step behind Menchi. Her elder sister was positively looking as aggressive as she was ever going to get with both hands firmly planted on her hips and an uncompromising scowl on her face. The memory of the struggle at Fantasia was still too real and fresh on everybody's minds and forgiveness was nowhere near the top of anyone's agendas. 

Illumi didn't react – perhaps his shoulders had sagged a bit and a flicker of pain flashed through those large ebony eyes or perhaps not – and he still held the fine silver satin garment in his hand. He pulled out a small diplomatic smile and tried hard to pretend as if he didn't hear the last remark. 

"I'll just leave the belt here on this table then Neon-chan. Be sure to apologize to this ni-chan here ok?" 

Illumi turned to give Kurei one last look before he balked in recognition. He stiffened and his mouth went dry and another set of character and personality kicked in. He had just met the opportunity of a lifetime and he'd kick himself if he let it go to waste. 

"Kurei-dono" he held out one hand for the young man to shake and tried to look confident enough not to appear too overbearing. "My name is Illumi. I'm sure a lot of people try to get to your mentor by sucking up to you, and I'm also quite well aware of your mentor's pledge not to discuss work for the next month or so. But I've got something here that's bound to amuse him." 

A black duffel bag was quickly unzipped and rummaging followed. Illumi withdrew a gold cardboard bag with a gold rope handles and peered inside, examining the contents and checking that it was the right bag. He reached inside his jacket pocket and produced a business card, delicately dropping it into the bag. 

"If you will please pass this onto your mentor for me?" he handed the exquisite bag over to Kurei. 

"Sure – and thanks for…you know." 

They all looked at Neon still cowering behind Menchi and Illumi knew his time was up. 

"Well, everyone enjoy you lunch then." He pulled out another package from his bag and placed it beneath the silver belt which was neatly coiled and resting on the table nearby. 

"And could someone please give this to Hisoka when they see him?" He gave another tight smile again and excused himself. 

Nobody moved until Illumi was clearly out of sight and earshot then relaxed and produced audible sighs. 

"It's ok Neon-chan…no need to cry." Menchi turned back to lavish attention on her kid sister who was apparently suffering post traumatic stress. 

"The psychopath touched me." She rubbed viciously at the sides where Illumi had slipped an arm around her waist to haul her off Kurei. 

Kurapika offered the timid girl his seat. "Don't worry Neon-chan. Here, take a seat and order a nice cold drink to settle those nerves." 

With everyone settled and lunches ordered, the mood visibly brightened again. And of course, it began with Neon's bashful apology. If she could, she would rather dig a hole and hide in it rather than face the full force of Kurei's charming smile. 

"And isn't that strange," he continued after agreeably accepting the apology and conveying a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth with impeccable manners "that Illumi-san was able to get the determined Neon-chan off me whilst two grown men were panting and sweating to no avail?" 

"Don't get cocky with us kid!" the samurai growled but all his other friends laughed at him. 

"Menchi, what are you going to do with that package?" Machi looked pointedly at the parcel in her gourmet Hunter's hands, the latter weighing it carefully and examining it from all possible and conceivable angles. "Will you give it to Hisoka?" 

"I was thinking more about throwing it away." The cook continued to scowl. In fact, that scowl had difficulties leaving her expression with everything and anything connected to Illumi…except for the clothes of course. She consoled herself that Fantasia was, after all, Kikyou-sama's store, and therefore did not qualify as being connected or related to the detested man. 

"That's not right." Kurapika uneasily eyed the two women. "I mean, it is addressed to Hisoka after all – why don't you let him decide for himself?" 

"Let me decide what for myself?" the magician's lilting voice seductively teased their ears. They all turned towards the entrance of the restaurant and saw Hisoka jauntily walking towards them with another person at his side. A tall, slender figure with fashionably cut black hair, dressed in a casual sports jacket and black pants over a white shirt, sporting a pair Ray Ban sunglasses. 

"Mind if I join an extra for lunch today?" 

"Hisoka, Karasu." Kuroro acknowledged, raising his glass to them in the ritual greeting gesture of the Ex Club. Others shifted to make room for one more unexpected guest, mumbling their agreements. 

Hisoka giggled and Karasu cocked an eyebrow. The latter drew a seat beside Kurei, listened attentively to Hisoka introduce the other men and women on the table, then picked up a menu. Kurei openly stared at his mentor's twin, appalled at the likeness, then gasped. He couldn't help but notice the faint markings on the tips of Karasu's left ear that were all too familiar. 

"Mentor!" he managed to squeak. 

"Well, it's a good thing that my protégé can still recognize me when the only distinguishing feature I have with my brother is covered." He smiled at his student and tilted the sunglasses up onto his head revealing a pair of ice blue eyes when everyone had been expecting a deep sparkling violet. "So, what gave it away?" 

"Ah Salar! Well…you can't blame us if we can't see your eyes can you? You've still got the same haircut as Karasu." Kuroro tried to explain, ignoring everyone's rolling eyes. 

"Correction – _he's _still got my haircut. Don't give my little brother so much credit." He turned back to Kurei. "So Ku-chan, how'd you figure it out?" 

"The scar on your left ear." Kurei looked down, a blush creeping across his cheeks. Salar instantly frowned and involuntary raised a hand to trace along the curves of his ear, momentarily lost in thought. 

"How on earth would you know Salar had a scar on his ear? Heck, I didn't know he had a scar on his ear." Hisoka said, half interested, half concentrating on unwrapping the anonymous package that Menchi had hesitantly (more like unwittingly) handed to him. She failed to tell him why he was to receive the package or who had given it to him for that matter. He shrugged noncommittally – fanmail – he was always getting it anyway. 

"I…" 

"It's embarrassing. Lets not go there." Salar said flatly. 

"Come on Salar – it can't be that bad – cut yourself shaving?" 

"You're pushing it Drosgen." 

"I bit Mentor's ear a while back." The young man blurted out. 

Hisoka choked on his drink, still halfway through unwrapping his parcel. He hastily grabbed a napkin to clean himself but ogled at the mentor and his protégé disbelievingly. Salar was putting on a magnificently straight face despite the stunned and incredulous looks people were giving him. He explained in a deathly calm voice: 

"It was during training and I wanted Kurei to break out of a certain grip. The stupid boy didn't stop to think and pulled a Mike Tyson on me instead. There, we satisfied?" 

Everyone was having a fit of giggles and had to bite their lips when Kurei tried to plead with his mentor for forgiveness. 

"You were holding me too tight Mentor! I couldn't break out of the hold any other way!" he said plaintively. 

Salar might have responded with something cutting, but Hisoka's 'oh' of surprise drew everyone's attention, as was intended. From a shallow cardboard box that the gold paper wrapping unveiled, he pulled up a shimmering piece of yellow material that twinkled endlessly in the sun light. 

"What a pretty thing." Gon quipped up, his small fingers already reaching out to touch it. Hisoka quickly snatched it away in one, innate act of possessiveness that surprised himself. And it showed on his face. 

"Menchi…who did you say gave me this again?" the magician watched the cloth slip through his fingers like liquid gold, dazed. 

"Illumi left it for you. I think there's a note attached somewhere." She peered around on the ground in and amongst the discarded paper wrapping and picked up a small card. Respectfully avoiding the contents, she gave it to Hisoka. 

The red head's gaze quickly flickered through the brief message and he sneered darkly, throwing the cloth back into its box. 

"He thinks he can make up to me by with something like this?" 

"I'd been meaning to ask earlier Pika," Kurei leaned over to his friend and said in a low voice "but why did Neon-chan call Illumi-san a psycho? You guys all seemed to react with…hostility towards him. I thought he was a kinda polite and nice guy." 

"You see the faint bruises on Hisoka's neck?" Kurapika urged for Kurei to have a look. "Illumi gave them to him." Kurei nodded solemnly. 

"And five grown men could barely push him off." Paku also added softly. Kurei's eyes widened and had to restrain himself from leaning across the table to get a better look at the fading bruises on the magician's neck. 

"Why am I not surprised that someone tried to kill you Hisoka?" Salar said easily, a small smile on his lips even. "I hear that you're pretty wild these days. Offending people left, right and centre is one of your daily habits I take it?" The magician sulked and scowled at the same time. He retorted bitterly to Salar's accusation. 

"Crazy psychopath – our Director at Hunter Works ordered me to look after him for two weeks you see, but our relationship deteriorated in less than 48 hours. And apparently, Illumi had been missing for a week – but he skipped town and went to the New York fashion catwalks without telling anyone. Got us all worried, thinking we'd be in trouble. I swear I want nothing to do with him anymore." 

"He's apologizing very hard though," Salar diffidently studied the golden cloth on the table with a keen gaze. "That is hand made, has faceted, grain sized 24k gold beads, sewn into them and were last seen in late Qing Imperial China during Cixi's reign. It's a national treasure – treat it with care Hisoka." 

"Oh Mentor – Illumi-san has a small gift for you too. He said you'd be amused." 

"I'll open it when I get home Ku. Help Hisoka pack these things away – the waitress seems to be coming with our lunch." 

Whilst Kurei and Kurapika were busy folding up the wrapping paper and putting it neatly out of everyone's way trying to make as little noise with the rustling material as possible, Killua's phone rang. He picked it up, not surprised to see that it was his father calling him as his father was always checking to make sure he wasn't up to any serious trouble. 

"Yo dad – guess who I'm sitting with right now? Hisoka bought Salar with him to lunch – uh huh…ALL of them? Oh…I see…yup…ok….see you tonight." 

Killua was hesitant, Gon knew it. He instantly recognized the bright gleam of confidence dimming in Killua's big eyes and the way his habitual cheeky grin lost some of its cheekiness. The Director's message to Killua had disturbed and shaken him somewhat, but his friend was trying real hard not to let it show. If it was any consolation, Gon would have told Killua that he was succeed very well in trying to mask his emotions. 

"Hey guys, Dad says that if you haven't got anything important on, he wants you all to come to my place tonight for a few tidbits and drinks. He's got a small announcement to make."   
  


* * *

**6:30pm – Zoldick Mansion**

Most people had long made plans for their Friday night – and even if the Director swore heaven and hell against them they would not break their obligations to their social life. As it turned out, only a handful of Hunter actors arrived, but Killua was silently pleased that they were the major ones. 

"Hey Jenny" he whispered as the maid passed beneath him with a silver platter of salada biscuits with cream cheese dip. "Do you have any idea what's up with dad tonight?" 

"Sorry Master Killua" the girl hurriedly rushed on, noticing the glare of the butler. "Ask Lady Kikyou – she's been in the kitchens all night directing us. She might have some clue." 

"Great. Thanks for the info." 

Killua watched the girl scuttle away and then let his gaze drift back to the dining area that had been altered so that it could hold a large gathering of people. The long table was set up with a fancy white table cloth draped over the wood, and enough food to feed ten families piled on top. Needless to say, the actors were attracted to the table like bees to honey and armed with small plates and napkins in their hands, they helped themselves to the food in generous portions. 

Hisoka was here, and was so Kuroro. They always hung out together – if only because they shared similar age and fame. Out of all the Hunter actors, it was the clown and the Dancho who would initially help Hunter x Hunter attract the media attention it needed. And truth be told, both were darn good at attracting attention. For a moment, Killua got sidetracked into wondering just how much more successful Kaéry and Xelan would be at drawing in the spotlights and the camera flashes of the adoring fans when they grew up. 

_Nasty brats_ – he scolded to himself relentlessly. _Spoiled rotten too_. They come from perfect two parent families and had no siblings that they had to look after. 

Speaking of sibling, Alluka, being his more than diabolically cheeky self, was having the time of his life intimidating the actors who had turned up. He left Gon and Zuuchi alone – they were his friends at Saturday school. And the fat pig Milluki (Killua wondered why he was here) was his revered God of Technology, so he got served the best sides of the pork and was allowed to taste all the wines first. From the balcony above, Killua lazily watched his brother's progress – from annoying Hanzo and Wing and Tompa, to being struck in deep conversation with the ladies. 

_Your act is fooling no one Allu._ He smiled to himself, noticing the barely hidden revulsion Paku felt for kids in general, but particularly for nasty kids who had a tendency to lie, charm, brag and intimidate. Machi was doing her best to be polite – whether she actually found some amusement in Alluka's jokes could be debated however. Shizuku and Senritsu were noticeably absent, but you could tell that Menchi was glad that less women were around to compete with her for the attention of the men. Neon, her kid sister, was dressed tom boyishly as usual, and she took time to quietly pick at some salad in one corner. 

Ah…Karuto had gone over to uncover Alluka's charade. Look at the vindictive venomous expressions just there, from both of them, as they tried to spill out as many of each other's secrets to embarrass the other. Karuto was definitely winning – his dad had told him that women had a natural talent for these sorts of things. The older female actors studied Karuto with varying degrees of amusement and respect whilst Alluka desperately tried to fend and dodge her verbal attacks. Serves him right for cutting holes into her favourite kimono that her brother had made especially for her. But then it served her right for pouring tomato sauce onto Allu's favourite jeans. But then it served him right…argh…the unending battle. Note to self: avoid under any and all circumstances. 

A few other Geneir Ryodan members were announced by the Butler. Nobu entered the dining room with Phinx trailing behind him, looking glum. He had obviously sacrificed whatever social life wasn't stripped from him but the man had his priorities. Franklin, surprising was here – news was that his child had recently been sick, but it must have been over by now. Kurapika was babbling away to Shal, the young lad pretended that he was interested, but when someone was trying to explain their achievements in understanding year eight fractions to you, it was something you didn't necessarily want to be reminded of. 

And that was about it. Aunt Kikyou stepped out from one of the kitchen doors and seemed to immediately know where Killua was hiding. She looked straight up at him and with sugar coated sweetness beckoned him to join the rest of the people. 

"Killu! Why don't you come down and join us? Your father will be here soon." 

Killua consented, surprised by his lack of resentment and resistance. He liked aunty Kikyou – others might say that they always copped earfuls from her, or that she was overwhelmingly demanding and bossy, but the over the past week or so, she'd taken over a lot of what Killua used to have to do. Even though Illumi had been missing for a week, she still left her shop just after lunch time to visit grandpa and incidentally run the house for him in the process (she's the type of woman who just can't stand imperfections and has to have a hand in everything – was what Zeno had muttered to Killua one evening), made sure Alluka cleaned his room out on a daily basis and handed his dirty clothes to the maids for laundry and even nagged him into doing his homework! By the time Killua returned from gym nights, Kikyou was still around – although she would be pouring over designs and other work documents from the store – and would tell him to get changed and have some dinner. Not that he needed to be told of course…but he strangely felt that he…liked being ordered around for these sorts of menial things. He could become a young and rebellious teenager again – have to be told to clean his hands before dinner, be ordered to get dressed and have dinner – he didn't have to impose these obligatory burdens on himself anymore. Alluka was looked after by someone else, just as he was being looked after too. He found the situation quite pleasant in fact, although it might have been interpreted as perverse, so he managed not to tell anyone about it. 

Feigning displeasure, he made his way towards the staircase, but almost froze when Illumi silently entered the dining hall like a pale ghost. What was he doing here? Killua madly dashed towards the staircase. 

Everyone was feeling nervous and agitated by Illumi's presence alone. Instead, he bypassed the table offering scrumptious food and headed straight towards the Hisoka-Kuroro corner. 

Illumi stopped in front of Hisoka at more than an arms length, clear of breaching the magician's personal space. 

"What do you want?" Hisoka immediately snapped to show his annoyance. Apparently, it was a reaction that Illumi had not anticipated, and he was struggling for words. 

"I was wondering if you got my present. Did Menchi give you a gold wrapped –" 

If he's feigning hurt and pain, it's a top-rating act, Kuroro silently mused to himself. Those big eyes were brimming with fading hope and those soft lips were trembling almost unnoticeably – almost. 

"Ah – that." Hisoka bent down to retrieve the item out of his bag and literally threw it back at the pale man in front of him. "I don't want it. I don't want to hear anything from you and I frankly don't want to have anything to do with you ever again." 

"I'm sorry about the whole incident at Fantasia Hisoka, I really am." 

"Are you?" Hisoka retorted sharply. "I don't know what you are thinking Illumi, I don't even know who you are, and I certainly don't want any of your gifts either." 

Any harsher, and Illumi would have dissolved into tears. This was promising to be another bathroom-shower-cubicle scene again, Kuroro thought with dread. He tactfully turned to one side – appear to give help to any side and the delicate situation would definitely erupt. 

"I'm trying to apologize. What else do you want me to do to show you that I am sorry?" 

"Nothing – just stay away from me, whilst I can still refrain myself from knocking your teeth out in the director's home." 

Long, white fingers clutched the cardboard box and its contents tightly, trying to hard not to shake. Deciding that pushing the point here and now would be useless, Illumi turned around and saw his mother trying to get his attention. Repressing a sigh, he obliged and forced himself to put on a small, unaffected smile even though his insides were twisted in one great, painful and burning knot that made him want to gag and throw up. 

"Good to see you socializing with you new friends Illumi." Kikyou said as her son drew near. She then frowned. 

"You're looking awfully pale. Are you feeling well?" 

"Everything's fine mum. Everything's good. Have you spoken to Silva about – " 

And talking about the subject caused the subject to appear. Silva's entrance and immediate drive into the main topic cut Illumi off. 

"Ah – glad that some of you could make it on such short notice. You might like to pass the news on to your other fellow actors who couldn't be with us tonight if you would please. I'd like to announce an extra addition to the Hunter cast. You're familiar with the people I'm sure – Kikyou's family will be joining Hunter Works." 

Excited murmurs immediately broke out amongst the small gathering of actors, eyeing the new additions with mixed reactions, some thrilled by the news, others more reserved, and for people like Hisoka – downright suspicious. 

"Their roles have already been determined." Silva ploughed on, his voice having the natural ability to cut through the general din. 

"They will be playing the Zoldick family that Killua tries to run away from in the series. Kikyou will play Killua's mother and her children will all become Killua's feared and hated siblings." 

Silva observed the reactions of the people in his spacious dining hall, but most carefully his son. Unexpectedly, Killua didn't react much at all. Truth be told, Killua didn't see anything surprising about the deal – it was one of his dad's usual tactics to offer his business associates sweet deals in order to foreclose on a greater deal and benefit for himself. He'd read the script numerous times – particularly the parts with his 'family' and frankly, they were minimally small. Karuto, his youngest sister, wouldn't even get a chance to say a word at all! No – the Hunter x Hunter show was more about him and Gon, not the addition of his family. They were just small roles. 

"Excuse me Silva, but didn't my mother tell you that I couldn't take up the role?" 

The director gave the man a puzzled look. 

"Not that I'm aware. Is something wrong?" 

"Mum! I already told you I had too much work coming up. I have to get you-know-what set up by Autumn along with my doll shop. I won't have time to act, you know that!" 

Kikyou's vicious slap across his cheek silenced everything and everyone in the whole mansion. The dull ringing hovered in the air sickly for some time and everyone wisely shut up. 

"Listen to yourself whinging god damnit!" she gripped him by the wrist and dragged him to the kitchens, slamming the door behind her. Killua quickly looked to his father with a look of panic and concern. His dad mouthed some words back to him, words which, on retrospect and much reflection, were eternal words of wisdom indeed. 

_You don't want to get involved._

Muffled screaming floated around them, hung thickly in the air, suffocating and repulsive. You couldn't tell if it was Kikyou who was doing the screaming or whether mother and son were yelling their heads off at each other. 

Killua gestured desperately to his father at the door, urging him to go in and settle the matter. And the greatest shock that Killua had ever received in his life was the look on his father – one of dreaded horror and outrage at the suggestion, incredulity barely disguising his fear and reluctance to interfere. He shook his head. 

_No way in hell._

The first person to storm out of the kitchen was Illumi, who proceeded to cut through the dining hall ignoring any look that anyone was trying to give him. Kikyou then emerged, trying to pick up and piece together the remaining shards of her dignity. She gave everyone a pleased smile that tried to ignore all which had just happened and beamed the full force of her friendliness and smothering lashes on Silva. 

"It's fine. We've got things settled – Illumi will play his part." 

"If he's seriously got too much work – " 

"No Silva, he'll play his part." Kikyou said with a note of finality, which, again with retrospect and reflection, was something that Silva wisely didn't answer to. 

"Soooo…with all that settled, I guess everyone is free to go. The new additions to the cast will also assemble at Hunter Works on Monday morning then? Good – now get out of my house. I want to lead what's left of my private life." 

Everyone tentatively chuckled at what they thought was a joke, and when the President of Hunter Works produced a rare (friendly) smile, they all laughed a little louder and slowly filed through the house. Only Kikyou and her remaining children stayed behind to have an extra word with Silva. 

Outside, the sun was setting and the horizon was splashed with a mottle of purple, red and orange clouds. People squinted at the strong glare of the setting sun and slowly walked towards the tall black iron gates leading out of the Zoldick mansion, murmuring amongst themselves with subdued excitement laced with weariness about the news. 

The gates swung open on well greased hinges and clicked softly as it closed behind them. The small group looked amongst themselves and said their good byes, splitting for the evening. 

"Hisoka – Illumi's coming towards you." Phinx murmured softly before turning around. Anyone who had half a brain would know and realize that it was not their business to get involved. 

The gravel all crunched beneath their stamping feet, but Illumi's footwork was especially light. There was another hopeful smile on his face. He spoke before Hisoka got a chance to cut him off, and he presented his small gift to the magician again. 

"Since you'll be my new colleague now – perhaps you'd like to accept my apology again so that we can have an enjoyable time working together?" 

Everyone couldn't help stopping and looking at the scene before them. The gossip potential and scandal factor was simply too addictive. 

Hisoka studied the slender cardboard box and sighed, taking off the lid, dropping it on the ground, then reaching out to the fabric inside and held it up to the sun. It immediately responded with a life of its own and twinkled so brilliantly that Hisoka almost accepted the gift. But he had more control than to be swayed by a shiny garment. 

His hands gripped the cloth tightly, then with one savage pull, tore the cloth apart. 

A thousand gold beads, the size of a grain of sand, went flying into the air like a golden firework, a splash of a thousand droplets from a waterfall and soundlessly fell to the ground before them. 

Illumi watched, in astonished dismay, as Hisoka returned the ruins back into the box he was still holding. 

"I think that explains our relationship quite succinctly, don't you?" Hisoka said with friendly casualness, and walked past the man without another word. 

Everyone had gone, the sound of their footsteps becoming so faint that it was inaudible. And Illumi stood in front of the black iron gates, staring at the torn garment, the delicate gold threads so violently ripped apart and now fraying. Not surprisingly, he felt the same. 

* * *

**Author's notes:** This fic is going to rely heavily on music at some points. Although it's not as important to the storyline now, you can hear the Bach pice that Kuroro played at naxos. In order to listen to the music at this site, you need a login and password - and listening is free, so you can sign up, or use my account:   
**Login address:** hunter_fiction@yahoo.com.au   
**Password:** hunterworks   
The piece is located here: www.naxos.com/scripts/newreleases/naxos_cat.asp?item_code=8.553505&memberID=95725   
It's the Concerto for Harpsichord and Two Recorders in F major, BWV 1057 - except on my recording, it was for two flutes. Enjoy the piece =D   



	12. Chapter 12: Landlord and tenant

**Chapter 12**

**Landlord and tenant**

**Saturday 10:30am**

"Oh my god Alluka! You've done all your homework?!" the tall and spindly maths teacher dressed in a drab dark blue Maoist looking suit, exclaimed with mock amazement. Alluka didn't appreciate Saitou carrying on in front of him like that, waving his workbook around in the air like it was the latest transcript of the bible direct from god but could helplessly do nothing against a teacher. Sure, he had his brother's wide arsenal of devastating lines and sallies, but Saitou was the maths _teacher_. 

_Some lines you learn not to cross, Allu_, his father's dry voice rang out in his frustrated head. Yes dad, he wanted to bitterly reply, but Saitou seemed to be spurred on by his open ire. To Saitou however, this was the best chance of getting back at one of the most monstrous urchins ever to have _disgraced_ the world and he would milk such a rare and infrequent chance for all it was worth. 

"And look at this! The lines on his algorithms all seem to have been drawn with a ruler as well!" he gasped with heavy exaggeration, clutching at his heart like he was suffering an on coming apoplexy and the class snickered with him. 

"Well Killua," Yahiko hissed from behind the boy "I see you've been fulfilling your motherly duties quite nicely." 

And to the surprise of everyone who sat within hearing range of yet another jab by Yahiko, Killua turned around to face him directly with a look of sheer good humor but was shaking his head furiously. 

"Not me this time Yahiko, I could never manage such a decent job on Allu. Hunter Works has finally announced the who the remainder of the cast are, and the woman playing the part of 'mum' is doing the most fantastic job at out place." 

"Oh." Said Yahiko with a sudden loss of words. A friendly response was the last thing he'd expect coming from Killua after all the years he's hassled him. 

"And you see Karuto?" Killua continued to declare to those who were finally bored by Saitou's (rather immature – you had to admit) antics and were hankering for something else to pour their distracted attention onto. 

"She's my new 'sister'. Dad says that I should get into the habit of thinking of them as family constantly so that I actually act like a child that's part of a big family. Ha! Imagine that, me a part of a family with **five** children." 

"It must be like World War III in your house then." Naruto raised his eyebrow in comic disbelief that had everyone chuckling. But Killua frankly didn't mind – he found it all refreshingly amusing. 

"Oh – you bet. You have no idea just how rough things can get between Karuto and Allu when they really put their minds to it." 

Kaéry turned to the girl with the features comparable to that of a refined porcelain doll. "Never had competition before huh Karuto? Always had two elder ni-chans doting over you, reacting to your every whim?" 

"If they're ever at home," Karuto dropped the pen she was using to scribe the notes from the board and rolled her eyes, flicking her dark hair back at the same time. "Aniki's not talking to mum – at all. Last night when we were having dinner, he just sat there and didn't even touch his plate. He's been gone for a month, doesn't even bring me back a souvenir from New York and is on some holy crusade against mum's orders." 

"What orders?" quipped up Yoh. 

Karuto rolled her eyes once more, but with added pathos. "Illumi's got a part in Hunter Works and doesn't want it. He's got an even bigger part than _me_ and he's never even had actor's training before. Doesn't want a role in Hunter x Hunter – gees…isn't that like throwing perfectly good money down the drain?" 

"I believe your brother would have much more important things to do." _Such as planning revenge perhaps?_ Kaéry finished the last thought with a troubling worries. He was about to get around to telling Karuto that he had solved the mystery disappearance of her brother, only to receive a call on Friday morning, a most rude and ungrateful call if ever, from Karuto telling him just how useless he had been during the entire week and that he couldn't even find out whether Illumi had left the country or not. 

_Apparently_, the man had gone to New York to attend the autumn fashion shows. He could go up to the man and demand to see his passport – but dwelling on the thought made him want to shiver. He already knew just exactly what kind of man this Illumi was – it would be his own untimely disappearance that may eventuate if he decided to pursue the matter without caution. Utmost caution. 

But the most pressing thing that he needed to do at first was to get a good look at the man. If Abel and Bunchuu had been serious about beating Illumi up and sending him the right message (stay away from Hisoka or else), then you'd be lucky if you could leave hospital after a two weeks. Presumably, Illumi was walking around in broad daylight now – walking – not limping or leaning on a walking stick, for that would attract suspicious looks. He'd like to see his face as well – knowing Abel, that cowardly fool would have taken great pleasure in disfiguring someone who had looks that could rival his own. 

Karuto was deliberately looking away, ignoring him to show him that she was still upset about his lack of use during the whole debacle. Kaéry narrowed his eyes, firmly standing by his own findings and conclusions. He thought that she had spunk at first, on the first day with her grand and impressive entrance. He instantly assessed her to be another attention-seeker, much like Xelan and himself. But throwing temper tantrums? That was just a sheer display of a lack of class and dignity. And Prince Kaéry prided himself in being a man…well, child for the moment, of great class and dignity. The Tuesday dinner that he'd tried to arrange fell to pieces before he even got there with her. She had an incredible grouch, and when it came down to grumpy, pity the person who stood in her way. Perhaps her mother had failed to remind her that a lady must _never_ show her ugly side to her man unless she is sure her man would love her unconditionally. 

Love unconditionally? Karuto? You've got to be joking – Kaéry smiled wickedly at the suggestion. But the trail of thought continued – who did he love unconditionally anyway? There was Grandpa, Dad, Mum, his uncle…sometimes, Xelan… 

He felt surprised as the last name surfaced in his mind. _Xe_? 

Kaéry quickly glanced over to his friend, who had chosen to sit to the diagonal of him today, because Karuto had taken his usual spot to his right. He caught Kaéry's violet gaze with his large cerulean eyes and turned his nose slightly at him, daring him to make a comment. 

Xe? He's angry with me. He'd been friends with Xelan long enough to read information from the slightest gesture and movement of that quiet boy. He worried. 

"Hey Xe." He called out softly, still aware that Saitou might just carry on with the whole ridiculous taunting and move to different target if one of them proved to be vulnerable. 

"Yes Kay?" Xelan said archly with barely suppressed venom. 

Kaéry hastily grabbed his books and slipped into the empty seat in front of him. Xelan was still steadily glaring at him. Everyone else couldn't tell, but Kaéry knew that there were special looks of repressed iciness and cruelty that Xelan gave to those he especially found repulsive. 

"What are you doing after this? I was thinking that we could probe around the internet for a bit on information about Vallanor." 

"I'm busy this afternoon." Came the immediate and short answer, as if it had been prepared long ago and was just waiting for the right question to release it. 

The ebony haired boy couldn't be bothered to hide his surprise. Xelan had never denied him anything before – whenever he made a suggestion, the younger boy always consented. Always. Haltingly, he asked: 

"So…what are you doing this afternoon?" 

"Jogging around the block with Shura." Xelan continued to speak with his voice higher pitched and sharper than usual. Kaéry blinked a bit, wondering what the hell was wrong with Xelan, but before he could speak, the trickster's son answered his thoughts. As usual. 

"You have your fancy distractions – I am certainly entitled have mine. Don't expect me to be at you beck and call all the time." 

That's when Kaéry scowled but tried to hide the menace. The muscles on his neck tightened as he fought for self control over a threatening and imminent anger. He knew by now that his face must have turned stark white, that his mouth was slack and perhaps slightly open, and his own fine slender fingers hideously clawed and digging into his textbooks. His voice would be reduced to the frostiest whisper, calmer than the ocean before a storm and more terrible than the furies of hell. He'd gotten angry like this once, at Xelan as well, but he vehemently vowed never to unleash his fury on him ever like that again. Making Xelan cry was like stabbing a hundred knives into his own heart. 

But then his mobile phone rang and he had to pick it up. All the while he listened to words droning from the other end of the phone, he never took his gaze off Xelan. The latter had turned away and was idly doodling small pictures in his notebook. The way he narrowed his eyes was just a testament to just how disgruntled he was feeling. 

_Damn it Xe…what are you talking about?_

Kaéry sighed as the voice finally crashed to an end on the other side and immediately began to pack his bags. His purple haired friend tried to pretend that he wasn't interested in what he was doing, but Kay managed to catch the one small flicker of sky blue eyes in his direction. 

"And where do you think you're going young man?" Saitou abruptly broke from his hooliganism and laid a pair of piercing amber eyes on Kay. Saitou suddenly felt the prickling of the fine hairs rising on his arm. The glare that Prince Kaéry was giving him held a burning a violet fire so intense that it could easily consume him and leave nothing but a pile of ashes. 

"Business. Something urgent requires my attention back at the office. I've got to go." 

"What about your homework?" The teacher refused to be browbeaten by his student. But Kaéry only snarled the more nastily. 

"Stuff the maths. Xe and I have advanced a million miles beyond elementary mathematics. I could do all the exercises in that textbook in under 2 minutes doing one handed hand-stand pushups." 

And with that, the young boy rushed out of the room still fumbling with his bag strap and trying to put his jacket on at the same time, a dark frown on his handsome face.   


* * *

  


**Three weeks later…**

**Friday, 6:30am Hunter Works**

Kuroro yawned and hoped no one saw his tiredness when he pushed open the large metal doors leading to studio 5. He shouldn't have been with the Ex Club last night, listening to some wild rumors and stories about one of them going head to head with the underworld gangs and mobs in the shady Northside. Northside was a place that you didn't easily step into – it was an area to the north of the city that was filthy, dirty, dark and lawless. Murder and robbery were daily exercises of disposition and police generally steered clear of the area – they weren't paid enough to go in there. People would dump dead bodies into Northside to conceal a crime, and usually, they did. The people who lived there were poor, wretched and miserable. That made them all the more dangerous and desperate. They knew no mercy and expected none and were as compassionate as a cat toying with its kill. He'd played a cop once, on the hunt of a serial killer in a game of cat and mouse in a rendition of Northside. Even the set gave him shivers of fear and he'd try to avoid going to the very northern tips of Fame Court whenever he could. Where Fame Court ends, Northside begins. 

"Dancho!" Paku waved, looking just as groggy as he was. He drearily nodded and ambled over to her area of the studio, towards the make-up rooms. 

"Good morning Paku. How are you today?" 

"Not good enough it seems." She muttered gruffly and sneaked a peek inside the make up room and grimaced at her leader. Kuroro raised an eyebrow. 

"They're in there." Pakunoda gestured for him to have a look. The man gave another weary sigh. 

"Lets go grab a coffee instead – I don't want to get involved" Pakunoda responded by rolling her eyes, expressing similar sentiments and trailed after him. 

At the café on level 2, they found another small group of actors also sipping on strong, black coffee – Friday mornings were always tough being the last day of the working week, but they usually hung out near the make up and change rooms. These days, people tended to avoid those particular rooms whenever _they_ happened to be in there. Kuroro sighed, thinking it rather sad that it was only the crack of dawn and he'd already sighed twice, and unfortunately, could see another dozen lot to come. 

Nothing had been going right ever since the Director required Illumi to spend the mornings with them to observe their acting. He arrived at the same time as all his other co-workers and was allowed to leave at lunch time. Things were a lot easier after lunch, but before then, mornings seemed so charged and treacherous. One wrong word could spill into a chaos of harsh words and hurt looks. The first week for Illumi was dominated by a dwindling and dying hope in his eyes and the small, tight smile that he pulled whenever someone got close enough to him as if to speak to him. After the Fantasia incident, half the actors at Hunter Works were uneasy and suspicious in their attitude towards him and like Hisoka, felt it was in their safety and interests to steer clear of Illumi. A select few, mainly among the women, were convinced that Illumi was some psychotic lunatic and gave him looks of daggers whenever he strayed too close to them. And the handful of actors remaining found themselves stuck in the middle – they didn't perceive the new actor to be _that_ dangerous and didn't share Hisoka's animosity but likewise didn't want to attract Hisoka's unattractive bad side either. 

Towards the end of the first week however, Franklin finally made a stand. He knew Illumi the least having missed half of the notable events as he had been at home nursing his sick child. On Friday, when the hairdresser had suddenly called in sick, there was no one around who could help pin up Neon's hair into that sock tube so that it could partly defy gravity. The director was thankfully running a bit late but all the people in the make-up room were desperately panicking. The new Zoldick aniki then stepped in and offered to do up Neon's hair. He was surprisingly very good and proficient, knowing exactly which wax and gel to use and when. Within moments, Neon's hair was perfect for the shoot, but she still glowered at him through her large blue eyes and threw a glass of water in his face. Illumi's large eyes widened, stunned, then quietly left to mop up in the bathroom. 

"I think everyone is seriously over-reacting." Franklin had declared over lunch on the same day of that incident. "This is seriously going to far – I mean, we are all actors of Hunter Works right? Shouldn't we treat each other with decency and respect?" 

Leorio rudely snorted and stretched his lips into a nasty grin. Of late, Illumi had taken his spot as 'the most detested in the building' and he happened to like it that way. 

"You weren't there that day, Frank." He said as a matter of factly. "Ubo, Bashou and Kuroro were pulling at Illumi with Nobu and Phinx trying to pry those hands off Hisoka's throat to no avail. If Kuroro hadn't been quick thinking, Hisoka might not be with us anymore." 

The big man frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about Leorio. The Illumi _I_ see at Hunter Works is so harmless that he'd squeak if he saw a mouse." 

"Then you see wrong." Hisoka said flatly, looking up from his food. "He's not the real Illumi – that's just some sick act he's putting up to mock and fool us. I suggest you peel your eyes open before he makes an idiot out of you too." 

Franklin took offence at that, and it showed by the way he had stirred uncomfortably in his seat and his clenching fists. "You would know wouldn't you Hisoka, I mean, after all, you're the one who kicked the shit out of him and ruined his face." 

Everyone had to put down their knives and forks in a chorus of metallic clatters and look up – Franklin had raised a subject that could not be ignored. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

"The hell you don't." Franklin had said, voice heavy with sarcasm. "But I happened to see all the ugly bruises on his face. Now lets see who hates Illumi's guts more than you…hmm…no one?" 

"Um, Franklin-san" Shalnark interrupted quietly in an attempt to neutralize the agitated atmosphere. "What bruises are you talking about? We've seen Illumi's face," Shal looked imploringly around the tables at all the actors for support "and we don't see any blemish or bruising whatsoever. It would help if you explained." 

"Of course I will," the big man had replied with his eyes still trained on the magician. "It was in the bathroom – after Neon-chan so rudely spilled water over him after he helped to fix her hair. He was right there, in front of the mirror washing his face. He wiped the makeup off and I swear half his face if black and blue. I even saw him apply another layer of makeup afterwards to conceal them." 

"You're kidding." Gon muttered incredulously. He caught a good glimpse of Illumi upstairs only minutes ago before he decided to join Killua down in the café for the blissful rejuvenating potion that was coffee and he swore that there was not a trace of dirt on the pale skin. 

"It could be heavy duty makeup." Shizuku offered quietly. "Some concealers are just so amazing these days that with the proper application and another layer of foundation, you can hide just about anything." 

"But wouldn't that leave a pasty and powdery look on the face?" Feitan asked. 

"The most expensive types of concealer and foundation are liquid. Lancome has a new creamy foundation these days but it's so damn expensive that I only use it for formal balls and other functions." 

"He was dabbing away with a small brush," Franklin resumed in a harsh voice "I saw him literally paint half a tube of concealer on. And yes – that stuff is amazing – even the darkest bruises just seemed to melt away and after ten minutes, he looked like a normal person again." 

But Neon-chan had taken the news the worst – not only was Illumi some sort of deranged and homicidal psychopath, she now envisioned him as some cross-dressing, transvestite psychopath and even told him so to his face. 'Make-up wearing freak' were the exact words she used. 

"Franklin-san says you use makeup. Get away from me you freak." She blurted out when he had offered to help her take the pins out of her hair. 

And when they all left for lunch, Franklin remained and had worriedly wondered why Illumi sat in front of his mirror with a blank and vacant expression on his face. Kuroro, being one of the slower and less dexterous actors to change out of his costume, overheard Illumi and Franklin talking. 

"Why did you tell them, Franklin-san?" came the soft, almost trance-like voice. 

"Sorry dude, I was trying to help you out." 

There was a slight pause. 

"Thanks for trying," came the voice laced with fatigue "but don't talk to me again – or they'll hate you too." 

There was the sound of a bag being unzipped. 

"Here, you've got two children right? These should make their day." 

On the weekend after the first week, the Ex Club met for lunch out in one of the new restaurants set up along Glamour Isle. There were just four of them – Hisoka, Abel, Yomi and Alucard, all sipping away on vintage red wine and feasting on semi-rare slabs of steaks. It was during this meeting that Hisoka finally asked if anyone of them knew or had a hand in Illumi's injuries. 

"Bunchuu and I did it for you, Hisoka." Abel had steadily replied, quite at ease with his conscience it seemed for a casual and graceful gaze settled comfortably on Hisoka's stunned features. "I'm surprised that he's walking around though – thought we took him out pretty thoroughly." 

"You should go easy on that boy," Alucard murmured as he sipped on his latte. "You know he's got tough backers – apparently Saga, your other co-actor, went to the same high school as he did, as well as the other woman who thoroughly deprived you of your pride and dignity the other night on that karaoke evening, remember?" 

His arrogant friend scowled terribly but firmly fixed his face into one of dispassionate reminiscence. "And I also note that one of you has sent that Rogina an invitation to join." 

Yomi couldn't help chuckling. "Yes, we just couldn't resist, but she rejected anyway. Ah…playing hard to get is definitely one way of holding our attention. We're keeping watch over the progress of Galaxy Institute." 

And so with Illumi's injuries confirmed, Hisoka reported back to the Hunter actors. The second week was possibly only slightly better. The clown toned down his open disapproval for Illumi and used his cutting remarks sparingly but the partial attempt at the meager reconciliation it seemed too late. The first week had done enough damage to thoroughly ostracize the new actor. He arrived earliest in the mornings and took up a seat in the make up room, usually the one farthest from the door and took out his work materials. Papers, pens, coloured pencils, and laboured away with a fanatic's fervour and detail. He knew by then that no one would approach him, nor deign to even say "good morning" to him. With his black bag tucked neatly underneath his table and head bent low, Illumi was reveling in the pains and humiliation of being ignored. Only when they were all in front of the director did he masquerade as the happy young man who didn't see anything wrong with the world and now and then bestowed them all a cute, friendly smile devoid of what he truly felt inside. 

Unfortunately, the mild equilibrium that had stabilized throughout Illumi's second and continuing third week at Hunter Works abruptly tipped yesterday the when team of actors, taking chance to bask in the warmth of the summer sun, were playing catch with a football in the park and accidentally threw one astray that hit Illumi. He had been sitting peacefully underneath an oak, minding his own business as Hisoka had coldly instructed, some way off from all the action and sipping soup in a styrofoam cup whilst doodling in his sketch book when the football stuck him on the side of the head without warning. The crimson red of the minestrone soup spilled in the air, mingled with a frightened cry of pain. 

"Oh shit." Hanzo, who was the one who had lobbed the ball off course, exclaimed. He hesitantly half walked, half jogged, to the crumpled figure lying on the dirt. Illumi tried to prop himself up and grimaced when he noted that the back of his left hand had been scalded by the boiling hot soup and his work soggy and in ruins, plastered with bits of potato, carrot, celery and tomato. Ignoring the mottled red and pink skin or the pain shooting up his nerves on his left hand, he looked around to see what had hit him. 

"Oh Illumi – I'm so sorry…I was trying this new curve ball technique and…" 

A look of gratification crossed Illumi's upset expression and he brightened visibly at Hanzo's decency in admitting his wrong and apologizing. Killua had also come to pick the ball and tsked painfully. 

"Aniki, your hand is bleeding." He noted grimly and dropped the football to examine the peeling skin and the fat droplets of blood plopping audibly onto the sketchbook beneath. 

It was then that Hisoka made a series of inappropriate comments, involving vocabulary such as "charlatan" "fraud" and "crybaby", several angry glares passed and a few more curses from both parties had them both at each other's necks. Illumi finally snapped, or so they had all dreadfully thought, but he was uncharacteristically weak. The well-built magician kicked Illumi off him with surprising ease and launched himself into a vicious counter attack. The disturbing thing about that moment had been the fact that some actors had actually stepped back to cheer Hisoka on and the rest were unwilling to move and intervene. 

Two bodies rolled on the grass, snarling and grunting whilst about a dozen people stood around hapless. Hisoka definitely had the upper hand, and when those self same hands themselves locked around Illumi's slender neck, Kuroro finally emerged from his state of stupor to pull Hisoka off. Spitting with rage and still grabbing onto the broken man lying on the ground, he managed to latch onto his shirt and ripped it open as more actors finally helped to pull him away. 

Gon had gasped with horror when he caught sight of the myriad of ugly bruises centered mainly along Illumi's ribs before the other man hastily wrapped his shirt together again. What struck out more were the protruding bones of the ribcage – the only other time when Gon had seen such a miserable state of the human body were on those posters that the social education teacher brought in to scare you from adopting the path of anorexia in order to maintain the fashionable image. 

"Are you satisfied now?!" Illumi had screamed at Hisoka but his voice came out as a strangled harsh croak. His hair was a riot and a mess, hopelessly knotted, entwined with the twigs and blades of grass and his anguished face streaked with tears. He coughed violently, his thin frame shuddering under the convulsions. "Are we even now?! Can you forgive me now?!" 

Hisoka's response had been to add more fuel to the fire. Not long, they had two grown men on their hands screaming their heads off at each other, hurling horrible lies and abuse. 

"**Damnit!**" Phinx roared, restraining Hisoka to the best of his capabilities. "Thou art going to attract every journo and reporter in this god forsaken town!" He dug his heels in the ground and gritted his teeth, pushing against Hisoka's struggling body with all his might. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw an even nastier sight however and redoubled his efforts in trying to suppress the man. 

"The Prince of Slime is coming you idiot!" he hissed whilst everyone gasped. 

Darien von Drosgen was out prowling the streets again after his face had recovered from Vash's onslaught a month ago. Gladis' Café was the first victim and the cheery restaurant became restricted and denied to them as Darien lounged there in his spare time with some other slutty girls from Serenity pictures. In order to avoid him, the actors had to go out of their way to the quieter corners of the city, but it took too long to get there and back during the lunch break, hence the café on level 2 became a busy gathering ground again. 

Kuroro's younger brother had observed the fight from the start and was delighted by the mayhem. He strolled over casually with Chibi Usa and Rei by his side and a wide smile on mockery and derision on his face. They all heard him chuckling from afar, taunting them, demeaning them with his superior arrogance. 

Tuxedo Mask approached them all and brazenly stepped right in between the pair who were still fighting to rip each other's hair out (actually, Hisoka had managed two handfuls of Illumi's long fine raven strands but had several bite marks along his arm). He deliberately gave a cruel and condescending smirk at the pair of them and then threw his head back to laugh aloud. 

"What are you doing here Drosgen? Hoping to get another date with Meryl?" Leorio had asked with almost the same amount of taunting that Darien now framed on his face. That earned Leorio a dark snarl and the silent admiration of his fellow actors. 

"No," Darien managed to reply without any anger, only sheer amusement. "I'm here to get a good glimpse of the two girls bitch fighting." He spun on his heels smartly to behold Illumi with phony pity in his eyes and Illumi stopped struggling against the hands pulling at him. Darien's hand slowly went up to brush the strands out of his face with poisonous care. Illumi bravely succeeded in not flinching. 

"Poor sweety," Darien cooed, turning the full force of his charm on to him, his eyes deep in those depthless black ones. "I knew that Hisoka was no good for you. He's a lying, cheating scum bag. I've seen rot at the bottom of my shoe that had more wit and integrity than him. The man's a dirty philistine and has the manners of the most despicable and downtrodden pig. Leave that ugly and ungrateful slob and come with me – I can show you a real good time, I promise. Forget about Hisoka, god knows he's probably molested a fair number of children in his time – " 

"**Shut the fuck up!**" Illumi screamed. His fist wildly whipped around with the speed and force reminiscent to a cannon ball being hurled out of the cannon by a barrel full of gunpowder and punched Darien squarely on the jaw. 

And Darien, aka the Top Hat wearing, rose throwing prick, the false charmer of women, Degenerate Manifest, fell face forward onto the ground like a felled tree. He crashed with a dull thud. 

All the Hunter actors were shocked for approximately four seconds thus didn't notice Rei and Chibi Usa fleeing the scene. Hisoka disengaged from the people who had been trying to hold him down (who now had looks of astonishment on their faces and gaping mouths) and cautiously stepped forth then prodded the prone body with his toe. It did not respond. Then gradually, Illumi simultaneously emitted sounds of hysterical sobbing and laughter that he couldn't suppress or stop. In fact, the more he tried to hold it back, the harder he sobbed and the harder he laughed. And everyone else soon burst into roaring laughter, clutching desperately at their stomachs with droplets of tears squeezed from the corner of their eyes. 

"Illumi downed Tuxedo Mask with one punch!" Nobunaga howled and bellowed his unfettered and unshackled joy slapping his own thigh even though it had turned bright red. He didn't care – he was too pleased by with the moment. 

"EVERYONE! Put a foot on him!" Hanzo urged as he rapidly set up the tripod and his camera that he always carried with him. After all, Hanzo considered himself to be an amateur artists in his private moments alone. 

"Kuroro, you can grind your boot into his head. Illumi-san, you may have the honour of jabbing your foot into his butt! Come on! Trophy positions please!" 

The bald ninja had quickly adjusted the camera into focus. "Leave a spot for me too! Killua, Gon, you're too far right, get in closer!" he urged, then ran to join the group. 

"All right guys…three…two…one…CHEESE!" Hanzo grinned his head off silly, as well as the dozen and a half of the actors present as the flashlight went off to capture the moment into glorious eternity. 

Not far, the faint wails of police sirens could be heard and everyone felt the delightful sensations of an adrenaline rush. 

"Lets get out of here!" Killua hollered with diabolical glee, hastily throwing Illumi's ruined belongings into his bag and making for the far side of the park with Gon and Neon close on his heels. Other older actors still laughed and raved as they scattered in other directions. Hanzo chucked the tripod back into his pack and couldn't resist snapping a few more shots of the still Darien from varying angles, then sprinted right after Shal and Hisoka who had already hailed down a taxi. Another taxi had already sped off and Hanzo could see the back of the women's heads, all bobbing from the cackling of their insane laughter. The taxi driver was half way through listening to Tchaikovsky's "Romeo and Juliet" fantasy overture – the rush of movement and momentum in the music before the introduction of the famous Juliet theme seemed really appropriate as their getaway music. The clash between the Montagues and the Capulets on the streets – analogous to the clash between Hisoka and Illumi? No – Darien was the one knocked out and Hanzo grinned wickedly as his demonstrably fine eyesight caught glimpses of police kneeling down and attending to Kuroro's brother through the trees as the car moved. If Illumi had landed the punch hard enough, Darien would have short term amnesia, preferably about that little incident just then. Even if he did remember, he'd be too embarrassed to tell.   
  
  
  


* * * * * 

  
  
  
  


The PA system's feedback forced people in the café to exclaim in pain and hastily cover their hands over their ears. Kuroro dropped out of his musings and creased his brow. 

"AHEM! Fellow actors, I ask you to come to Studio 5 where, in my hands, is a work of art worthy of immortality. Chop chop peoples! Get up here!" Hanzo's enthusiastic voice broadcasted to the whole building. With varying degrees of enthusiasm, they made their way back to level 5. 

"Give me that!" April scolded, slapping the bald man's head with a rolled up script to retrieve the microphone. "Thank god the director's not here to listen to you abuse the PA, otherwise _both_ our heads will be on the chopping block, idiot." She added, still scowling furiously at the smirk on his face. Her grip on the roll of paper tightened causing tiny creases to spider out on the sheets of the script, and she entertained some real thoughts about bopping Hanzo senseless. Yes…she savoured the image in her mind – Hanzo as a crumpled heap, in a daze and almost unconscious on the ground. That would finally get him to shut up and stop yapping on and on about the mindless gossip that he just has this amazing affinity towards. He was now leaning casually on what April guessed was a large frame wrapped in recycled brown paper. She judged it to be about four feet in length and three feet in width – almost the size of her own desk top. April growled with frustration and tied her hair up so that the stray stands would not get in her way – 'I will _not_ feel curious about the picture that Hanzo might have framed up' she continuously chanted and got to sorting out all the leads and wires. 

"Ok peoples! In the make-up room!" Hanzo said with much enthusiasm. 

The makeup room was always dominated clusters of spotlights and rows of mirrors for the actors to study the perfection of their faces. Illumi was down the far end, drawing away again with the self-same look of desolate despair on his face. He gaze briefly flickered over to the large group of actors gathering, but turned back to concentrate on his work. He'd just be told not to go anywhere near them – again – especially with Hisoka around. The magician was applying generous amounts of wax and gel to prop his hair up – for that Celestial tower fight scene that the Director predictably hadn't been satisfied with. Wing sat near him, arms folded, legs crossed and dozing every so lightly. 

"Wake up and you guys all get over here!" Hanzo gestured to the three people. Illumi appeared surprised. He even looked around when Hanzo motioned for him to come, wondering if he was talking to someone else, then pointed to himself and mouthed the word 'me?'. 

"Of course Illumi-san – you helped to make this all possible!" 

Illumi walked up to them, eyes warily wandered now and then in Hisoka's direction and stood away from him. 

Hanzo enthusiastically, eagerly, zealously, ardently – argh – there are simply no words to describe the elation that he felt as he tore away at the brown strings and paper and with one giant rip of the main wrapping covering the picture, Hanzo revealed the beautiful moment yesterday, encapsulated in his camera and on the film, now translated into a symbol and testament of achievement. 

"Ta-da!" he exclaimed proudly with a flourish and everyone blinked several times to get their eyes into focus. 

Hanzo had developed the picture as a black and white, to give it that warm and cherished look, an old artifact and momento of sentimental value. The picture was in a frame of heavy bronze, finely polished, and set on a black mountain. 

The large photo was studied in a silence of awe and wonder whilst Hanzo grinned over them. Every blade of grass and the shadow it cast was so distinct. A lot of the actors held out V signs at the camera – Gon had the biggest and cheekiest grin of all whilst Illumi, with his wildly tangled hair that had been hastily matted down for the shot gave a timid smile. Hisoka, so caught up by the circumstances, had momentarily forgotten about his vendetta with Illumi and actually had an arm around the slender man's shoulders and a proud look on his face, half of which seemed to be for Illumi. No inch of Darien was left untrodden – they made use of his entire backside to find a foothold for the picture. Thankfully, Zuuchi had held Darien's bewildered head to the side so that the camera could capture his face with crystal clarity. 

_"carpe diem…"_ Gon put on an eerie whisper. 

_"Sieeeze the day…"_ Killua echoed. 

They all burst out laughing as the humour of yesterday returned to haunt them and tickle their funny bones. 

"HISOKA!" came the distinctly horrifying growl of Director Silva outside in the studio with increasingly loud footsteps heading towards them. They all froze – there was no time to hide the photo! Shal and Machi reacted first by putting their bodies right in front of it, and every one followed suit, tightly clustered around the entrance of the make-up room. 

"Hisoka!" Silva burst into the room and walked around the circle of people, too angered and troubled by another issue to be suspicious at the moment. "My agents found you screaming and fighting with Illumi in the park yesterday afternoon!" The Director's eyes severely weighed them all, like Anubis trying to weigh their hearts and conscience – not unlike standing in front of a firing squad actually. 

"Or are you going to try to tell me you were mock-wrestling again?" Silva continued, clearly not amused. But then it struck him that they were all standing a bit oddly, namely having formed a human cocoon around a certain object. 

"Everyone stand away from Hanzo!" he barked out loud and everyone gulped down their fears and jittering to comply. Hide something from the powerful Director of Hunter Works? Impossible. 

So reluctantly, they moved away from Hanzo and his photograph and watched an expression that only crossed the Director's features once in a lifetime. He was gaping – jaws hanging in utter…who knows what he was feeling – but he was sure as hell stupefied by everyone's trophy stance over… 

"Is that…_Darien von Drosgen?_" 

"Er….yes sir." The poor ninja quivered. 

Silva's tone wavered as he spoke, but the actors still could not ascertain which emotion it belonged to. "And…how did he come to pose for this photo?" 

An uneasy silence permeated around them with many troubled looks being passed back and forth amongst them all. 

"I…knocked him out sir." Illumi quietly spoke up with the truth. Silva looked at him, clearly incredulous now. 

"He…was insulting Hisoka sir." The pale man continued to mumble with glum and downcast eyes that foresaw trouble. "Said all sorts of nasty things. Even accused him of being a pedophile." He added the last bit quietly. 

The standoff lasted about half a minute, then Director Silva, in an oddly neutral tone, told them all to get to their places. 

"And Hanzo" Silva suddenly said as if he had just thought of it. "Invite the people from Reikai Motion Pictures over some time to see this." 

Hanzo gave a sharp salute and clicked his heels, eyes sparkling with agreement. "YES SIR!"   


* * *

  


**1pm, Level 2 Café**

They all decided that it was wise just to keep their heads down for a while and let whatever gale that Darien could and might stir blow over. Café food wasn't all that bad, because people from RMP would sometimes drop in for their desire to avoid the known Darien retreats. 

"Soup again Illumi-san?" one of the cooks frowned. "Look at the hollows in your cheeks Mister! Soup isn't going to put meat on your bones – is my cooking not good enough for you?" 

Illumi innocently shook his head. "No no – I'm on some medication right now that leaves me nauseous. If I had anything heavier than soup, I'd end up throwing it up in the bathrooms anyway. Why waste perfectly good food no?" 

"Young man," the chef continued to speak in his heavy Italian accent. "You are wasting away underneath my very eyes. You can't hide it from me just by dabbing some colour on your face – I'm a cook and I know when my customers are healthy or not. You are definitely underweight." 

"I'm under a lot of work and stress right now Chef – so could I just have the soup please or should I skip lunch?" Illumi mildly threatened. The short fat chef grumpily stomped off and came back with Illumi's order. 

"You have a big dinner then ok?" 

Illumi smiled and found a solitary table to sit at. Nearby, he caught the most interesting conversation: 

"Your landlady is going to kick you out?!" Menchi squealed with laughter. Hisoka only gave her an annoyed glance and returned his attention to the newspaper that he'd been studying, looking for available accommodation. 

"I wasn't kicked out." He said heavily. "My lease has expired and there is no option to renew. She merely wants to repossess the property for her own inscrutable reasons. I have to vacate by the end of next Friday!" 

"Yeah sure." Killua grinned, twisting the spaghetti on to his fork. "One of her inscrutable reasons being that you are a pig and a slob who leaves her unit in a state of permanent ruin, right?" 

The small crowd of actors on Hisoka's table all chuckled. 

"Don't think about my place." Kuroro warned. "It's a single bedroom apartment and my couch is not comfortable." 

"And you certainly don't want to live with me" Nobu offered. "I have bad house habits and have concluded that I was always meant to live alone." 

"Don't look to me either Hisoka," Wing deftly buttered his bread "It's crammed from wall to wall with books that will give you painful headaches." 

"Gees guys – you are all refusing me before I even get a chance to ask. I have this tincey wincey suspicion that none of you want me living at your place." 

"Not at all." Came the immediate response followed by a jumble of incoherent excuses. Hisoka just sighed and turned back to the tiny print on the paper. 

"Damn…everything that's available is either even worse than where I live or they want to rip you off – look at this one! $800 a _week_! What – do I look like I'm made of money or something?" 

"Hey Hisoka – this one's cheap AND nice!" Gon pointed to a small box. 

_Wanted: One male housemate to share a 2 bedroom apartment._   
_Must be single, companionable, responsible and CLEAN!_   
_Must also abide by the list of rules set up by owner._   
_Rent: negotiable – starting at $200 a week._   
_Address: 1337 Glamour Isle, Andelain Towers, level 6_

"**_Andelain Towers?!"_** Nobu almost dropped his fork. "That's been heralded as the most luxurious and glamorous block of apartments ever to be built in Anime City! They've got marble tiles in their bathroom and gold gilded taps!" he pushed his plate aside and leaned over to study the advertisement. 

"Too bad you're not clean, or responsible…and companionable only when you feel like it." Machi mocked cheerfully. 

"I can change!" Hisoka protested, eyes glued to the small box of black text. "And I sure as hell feel companionable right now! $200 a week is damn cheap! What the hell is wrong with the place?" 

"Perhaps it's haunted?" Machi continued to joke. 

"Forget it – the poltergeist can set fire to my underpants at night, but I'm _getting_ this place. Ah…here's the contact number." 

"Don't bother." Illumi's ghostly voice stung their ears like a chill. 

"This isn't your business Illumi." Hisoka continued to dial the number into his phone and hit the connect button. 

A phone coincidentally rang out in the café. Illumi dug into his pockets and pulled up his phone for Hisoka to get a good look at his own number flashing on the luminous screen. 

"That's my number in the ad – and that's my ad." 

"You…you _live_ there?!" half of them exclaimed. 

"Yeah – I moved out of home about three weeks ago." 

"How did you afford it? Did your mum pay for it or something?" Nobu's eyes were dripping with envy. 

"No – it was a gift." There was a hushed pause. 

Hisoka's narrowed eyes gleaned over Illumi suspiciously. 

"Who gave it to you?" 

And to Kuroro's utter amazement, Illumi shrugged and treated the whole matter too simply for his liking. 

"Salar gave it to me. He was very amused with the present I gave him and wanted to repay the gesture. So he gave me the apartment. It's mine – I'm the registered proprietor. You don't want to live anywhere near me right? And besides, you're never companionable around me, so you have no chance." 

"Swallow thy pride Hisoka." Phinx advised. "A perfect location, coupled with such an attractive price – surely thouest can forgive Illumi-san and show him some of thy famous companionable nature and work on thy lack of cleaness?" 

Hisoka told Phinx to shut up, the latter shrugged, used to having his advice rebuked by the magician, and worried on his thumb between his teeth. There was a hard and strained look on his face as Hisoka turned to Illumi again. 

"I'll come to inspect your apartment. If I like it, I'll be clean, responsible and companionable." 

"_And_ abide by my list of house rules?" Illumi asked with growing unease at the look of unholy determination on Hisoka's face. 

"Yes, _and_ abide by your house rules – but that's only _if_ I like your apartment." 

Everyone rolled their eyes – it was Hisoka's last ditch attempt at piecing the remnants of his pride. 

Illumi gave a small sigh. "All right – I'll get my estate agent to come along so you can ask her about any other details on the lease. Five o'clock tonight ok for you?" 

"We're all coming!" Nobunaga declared, and Kuroro beside him gave an emphatic nod. "You know, give Hisoka a second opinion." 

Sets of eyes rolled again – but everyone was more curious about the whole outcome of this arrangement. Could Hisoka and Illumi's bitter struggle finally settle down into a civilized relationship? They didn't expect the pair to become best friends, but at best, they could at least begin to treat each other with some impartiality and civility. Only time could tell.   
  


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**Author's note:**   
Argh...no time to thoroughly beta read...gotta study for exams. Please just try to make out the words if there are gaps. 

Carpe Diem/Sieze the day - reference to **Dead Poets Society** - one of the best movies ever! 

The short form of Xelan – Xe – is supposed to be pronounced as "z" in the American way ('zee'). 

Come on – I'm really desperate for opinion. Cherrie gave me a wonderful review at the ML, but don't we always hanker for more? To make everyone's lives easier, I've got a specific list of questions that might aid you in reviews: 

1) What you liked/disliked about the story – and **why**. I'm always interested in the opinions of my readers J   
2) Original Characters (OCs) – what do you think of them? Are there too many of them? Do you think they are taking up too much space?   
3) How is everyone coping with the story? I guess the story is gradually rumbling along…but trying to fit a lot of other anime characters takes time – and even more when you want to throw in your own plethora of original characters. Can people still follow the story? 

As to the Tchaikovsky song, Naxos **does** have it. In order to listen to the music at this site, you need a login and password - and listening is free, so you can sign up, or use my account:   
**Login address:** hunter_fiction@yahoo.com.au   
**Password:** hunterworks   
The piece is located here: www.naxos.com/scripts/newreleases/Naxos_cat.asp?use_computer=PC&NewQuery=&memberID=95725&login=&item_code=8.555714   



	13. Chapter 13: Everyone's got relationship

**Author's notes:** For this chapter, if people could please open up naxos and have the Elgar cello concerto ready to play, and hit the 'play' button when you see (**). I only hope that it adds to the atmosphere – it's my first time in attempting to actually integrate music into the text. Not everyone out there is a classical music nut…but even if you think it's garbage, I urge you to try to listen to some – naxos is free anyway, so enjoy. The login details and address are down the bottom.   
  


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**Chapter 13**

**Everyone's got relationship problems**

**Friday 4:45pm – Hunter Works Lobby**

"He told us to wait for him here right?" Nobu tapped his foot impatiently on the ground with his arms crossed. They had decided that three other people should go with Hisoka to check out his new residence. Of course, it hadn't been decided yet – he still had to check it out to see if it was to his liking – but they all knew he was just saying that. The other two nominees were also grumpily lounging around the Hunter Works lobby with him. 

Kuroro was seated on the couch, looking non-fussed with a thick book in his hand titled War and Peace>>. Nobu chuckled at the irony – they've had their war, now they were looking forward to some peace, however strained and minimal. The former Mr Perfect was never ruffled and could not work up a hysteria unless he was embroiled in the middle of the battlefield with shells exploding around him. More often than not these days, he found himself exactly in that situation and he decided that he certainly didn't like it. He was supposed to be the melancholic, brooding man who spent most of his private hours lounging in coffee houses with a juicy novel in hand and nothing of the world's troubles in his mind. In his mind, Kuroro envisaged himself as the bohemian artist living the insouciant, free and easy lifestyle without having to sort out other people's relationship problems. Kind of a bit like Salar, he was supposed to be aloof and detached because he lacked a certain commonality with the other actors since he'd been literally forced into social isolation all his life by his demanding parents. But time seemed to have worn him thin of his previous persona, and the more he (was forced to) hang around the actors, the more they rubbed off on him. He was developing the B-class actor, take no crap, don't really give a damn about my career attitude. And he loved and savoured every minute of it. 

Hisoka and Illumi's relationship problems – don't go there, he told his wandering mind and trained it back onto the book he was reading. 

Machi was mechanically flipping through some gossip magazines as if she was obliged to do so. During lunch after Illumi had left the café, the gourmet hunter had loudly declared that a woman should also go with Hisoka to give him a woman's opinion of the apartment. Senritsu was not here, Shizuku really wanted to go but had other private stuff to do before the last Friday gym session and Neon didn't speak half the time, let alone give an opinion. That left Pakunoda (who didn't really care or want to get involved), Menchi and Machi. They did janken and Machi won. Nobu swore that he saw a look of vile jealousy cross Menchi's face as Machi casually shrugged at her good fortune and agreed to go with the Genei Ryodan leader and the samurai. They spoke more about Hisoka's accommodation throughout lunch, with the magician vainly trying to hide his desperation to know just how magnificently splendid the apartments were. 

"So kid, can you tell us what the place is like?" Hisoka hopefully looked to Killua. The white haired boy shook his head with an apologetic look. 

"Truth be told, I didn't even know that he had moved out." 

"But isn't he playing your aniki even outside acting hours?" 

Killua snorted. "Everyone else from aunty Kik…I mean _kaa-san_'s family are acting like they are all Zoldicks – very good at it I must add – but I hear from Milluki that Illumi is working devilish hours. Straight after he leaves Hunter Works, he's running around the city talking to PR people, advertising agencies, a team of lawyers and estate agents to set up this new clothes store that he wants to promote by Autumn. He spends most of his nights working on this other project of his. Remember the time when Zuuchi tried to prank call him on the weekend Gon?" Killua looked to his friend who was aimlessly pushing a few stalks of asparagus on his plate and silently debating in his mind whether to eat it or to torture it with his fork. 

The main star of Hunter x Hunter then looked up as he was addressed and nodded blankly, barely recalling the stupid stunt they pulled a few days ago. 

"Yeah, Zuuchi rang him up at 3 am to annoy him or whatnot. I was certainly against it – drag me up from my beauty sleep! Urgh…" Gon had settled for mercilessly jabbing his silver fork into those green shoots but saw Kurapika's disapproving frown so he quickly gobbled them up. 

"He picked up the phone immediately. There was even some music going on in the background – apparently, he was still designing his toys at that hour." Zuuchi quipped up from behind his mountain of vanilla ice cream that had successfully managed to cover his small and fuzzy head. The child actor always finished lunch faster than anyone else and usually took up dessert whilst they still continued to saw away at their steaks. 

"I so didn't expect him to sound awake that I completely forgot what I wanted to say and settled for slamming the phone down." 

A few eyebrows were raised at the level of maturity that the children had reached and Hisoka grumbled for the rest of lunch. He left Hunter Works straight afterwards with instruction to the three selected people to wait for him in the lobby at 4:30pm. So here they now were, and the stupid clown was running fifteen minutes late. 

In the horizon, a red haired figure was running towards them, hair messy and wild, shirt buttons not in their proper corresponding holes, but at least his fly was done up. Hisoka halted just before them, panting in great mouthfuls of air, the back of his wrist immediately flying to his forehead to flick away the sweat. 

"Sorry I'm late." Hisoka continued to wheeze, bending over with hands clasped over his knees to stop his legs from trembling due the exertion. 

"The car's nearby – I got here as fast as I could." 

"You're dirty and dusty Hisoka – what happened?" Kuroro wrinkled his nose and deliberately retreated a few steps as if he was afraid of catching anything that Hisoka might be carrying. The magician gave an annoyed scowl at Kuroro's prudishness and focused on answering the question instead of imagining unpleasant things he'd like to do to the Genei Ryodan leader. 

"Stupid landlady – upped the date I was supposed to vacate the premise when I stupidly let slip that I was going out to inspect new premises. She wants me out of my apartment _by midnight tonight!_" he paused for a few more deep breaths. "So I spent the rest of the afternoon going through all my valuables and packing everything into my suitcases then jammed them into the boot of my car. Now I wish I'd taken up Phinx's advice and gotten a car with a bigger boot. Whoever sits in the backseat will have to hustle up a bit." He lead the group with a brisk, fast paced walk and was still breathing heavily and audibly, the exhaling sounding very much like the wheezing of a sick child with sever asthma. Then he suddenly stopped and spun around to glare at them all. 

"And don't _anyone _of you tell Illumi that I'm going to be kicked out tonight. He'll sense my urgency and might push up the rent knowing that I have no other options or alternatives. You got that!" 

They all smiled wickedly at him and made looked away, deliberately refraining from making eye contact and uttered some half-hearted promise. They weren't going to tell Illumi about Hisoka's dire situation of course, but it just amused them greatly to see Hisoka sweat and squirm. You had to settle for these small victories if you were ever going to survive in Anime City with these bright and hugely shining stars overpowering you with their glamour and presence. And Machi had the sneaking suspicion that Hisoka was lying – that he'd left his problem till last minute, which was one his usual traits – and that he was originally scheduled to be kicked out tonight anyway. She heartlessly snickered at the suspicious and nervous glances that Hisoka sometimes stole now and then as they continued to walk to his car. You could almost hear him grinding his teeth. 

Machi and Nobu squished into the back seats of Hisoka's car whilst the immaculate Kuroro took the roomy front seat and smirked at their misfortune. Machi in particular, was being pressed against a large paper box that exuded a stuffy, moldy smell and an assortment of other foul odours that reminded her of day old socks. Perhaps there were day old socks in there, but she tried hard not to think about them otherwise she might just add the smell of vomit and puke, and she was sure that no one else in the car would appreciate that. 

They all grunted at the uncomfortable bouncing of the car and the rattling of whatever objects in the old cardboard box and hitting their head on the side panels of the windows from the abrupt swerves as Hisoka sped down Endless parade towards the heart of Anime City. Hisoka dodged and sped through yellow lights and cursed the cars parked on the sides of the road. The 200 floor sky scrapper that was Elysian was like a painfully bright spire of gold and silver in the conception of dusk when the sun bled a dark crimson and hung like a ball of fire in the sky. At the large roundabout on the foot of the building, Hisoka made a sharp left turn into Glamour Isle and let loose another vivid string of curses that had Kuroro coughing to hide his embarrassment – he was running late. 

Thankfully, they managed to arrive there in one piece without crashing. Kuroro thought he might have seen a speed camera, but shrugged – it wasn't his problem. He was here just to enjoy the show and the view. 

Andelain Towers left their jaws hanging wide open. It was built using the classical neo-Grecian architecture and made use of columns and aesthetic symmetries with statutes of semi naked nymphs holding pitchers at the entrance – beautiful, seductive and alluring – the perfect words to describe the building. It was consisted of three towers which stood in a semi circle leaving a roundabout in the centre that the gardener had studded with colourful flowers of the season. Hisoka cautiously drove in and traced around the stone edge and saw the slim figure of Illumi standing in front of the middle tower, angrily scowling. 

Hisoka quickly unwound the window and Illumi leaned in to give him a clearly dissatisfied look mingled with barely restrained fury. 

"You're late." He snapped. "And every minute's costing me money. My estate agent is already here. Drive into the underground car park and park in the spot with B6 painted on it then get back up here." 

Hisoka returned the scowl and thoughtfully kept his mouth clenched shut. He settled for giving Illumi yet another nasty look and drove down into the car park only too aware that Illumi didn't give him the usual pained eyes at his unfriendliness. Next to him, Kuroro was mildly entertaining the idea that Hisoka was definitely experiencing difficulties with being 'companionable' – and he had seemed so delighted this afternoon after finding this place and promised everything under the sun to be able to live here. 

_I really ought to remind him about the collateral contract_, Kuroro smiled lightly and watched Hisoka pull up the parking break that creaked painfully. He undid the clasp on his seatbelt and gave an unnoticeable shake of the head, all meant for himself. 

_No, he's old enough to handle this_. His cynicism was laughing truly loudly in his mind indeed. 

Illumi was impatiently tapping his foot in the lobby, the irritated look still on his face as the four of them stepped into the luxurious lobby, feeling very out of place in their clothes that suddenly looked very shabby. Not unlike stepping into the ballrooms of Elysian without a full suit of tuxedo on in fact. The air condition was turned on full blast to give a refreshing, soul cleansing breeze. The tiled floors were so polished that they could see the reflection of the bottom of their soles and were painfully conscious of how dirty they all seemed compared to the pristine and spotless paradise they had just entered. It pained them just to tread this unsoiled ground with the muck of the mortal world. 

In the lift, Illumi visibly shied away from Hisoka and had wrinkled his nose. The look he gave Hisoka was not his usual hurt and self-pitying one coupled with the injured and fading hope, but one of utter disdain and disgust. All right, so Hisoka didn't look his best, but he wasn't _that_ dirty – it's just that in contrast and comparison to the luxurious apartment building they had just entered into, Hisoka…well, he seemed to have a lot in common with the sewer rats right now. 

The elevators dinged at level six and the metallic doors soundlessly slid open to reveal the doors of just the four apartments occupying each level. The delicate and stylish vines of ivy along the edges of the doors were carved with enviable skill and plated with a smattering of gold leaf to give the semi antique rendition. There was a short but energetic woman standing outside the door of apartment B in a dark blue suit jacket and matching skirt, supporting a folder holding a dozen sheet of papers with her left arm. They all noticed a glimmering silver dragon embroidered on the left lapel of her suit. The symbol of Vallanor. 

She smiled widely at Illumi as he approached the door and even bowed slightly. The same exuberant and lively smile was also bequeathed to Illumi's colleagues and she professionally introduced herself with a well rehearsed speech that she never got tired of repeating. 

"My name is Mina Jenkins. I'm Illumi's estate agent and I specifically handle all the property issues of Andelain Towers. I'm here to answer any questions you might have concerning the duration of the lease, negotiate an option to renew, explain some clauses that you might not understand, and of course, to provide the owner of the apartment block with an honest opinion about the new tenant." Then her tone hardened and lost some of its warmth as it took on a more authoritative edge. 

"Andelain Towers prides itself in being one of the most sought-after, high flying and respectable apartments in Anime City. So that means for tenants or landlords who are of shady character or background, have a history or track record of drug use, violence, vandalism and a taste for bringing prostitutes into their home, Andelain Towers has reserved a right to deny such people a proprietary interest." Her brown eyes flickered calmly to Illumi's unresponsive back as he pushed the door open and stepped in. 

"These were the terms of sale that all other residents must agree to. So," she broke back into her former friendliness, "lets inspect the apartment shall we?" 

Hisoka swore that his jaw had somehow managed to hit the ground and his eyes widened larger than tennis balls. He'd been lying if he said he was impressed – heck, impressed would be at the bottom of the list if he had to find a word to describe the sensations of stepping into the apartment. He had entered a room that you only saw in good movies – whether it be the black marble tiles or large sheets of blemish -free glass overlooking the more attractive and eye pleasing parts of the city, or the tasteful modernist style that Illumi had set up – it was better than anything he'd even dream of. 

Kuroro drifted to the left side of the room towards the CD racks and the entertainment system. He had become very fascinated with Illumi's stereo system. 

"Surround sound?" his eyes glittered with appreciation. The black orbs looked lovingly at the speakers firmly embedded into the four corners of the lounge area and wondered how his latest CD would sound. 

Illumi gave him a tired nod and threw the keys on the kitchen bench adjoining the lounge area that also acted as the separation between the kitchen and the living room. He scratched the back of his head without much feeling and blanched when he saw the clock. 

"I'm going to get some sleep – I have an appointment tonight. Got questions – ask Mina and –" 

The melodic chime of the doorbell caused Illumi to frown with irritation again. Not expecting any other guests, he opened the door a crack to see who it could be then quickly flung the door wide open. Everyone tried hard not to shiver when Salar gave them all a chilling smile and neatly stepped in with fluid and controlled grace – uninvited. He was dressed in yet another suit, but this time, the top buttons of his shirt were undone and revealed the sickly pale white skin beneath. Around his neck glinted a white gold chain. Illumi see the pendant – it looked like a pair of crossed swords set on top of a shield, and most captivating of all was the dragon that was entwined in those swords. It was the mark of Vallanor. A laptop was slung on one shoulder but judging by the size of the black bag, you could tell that he owned one of the latest models that were astonishingly lightweight. 

"Good afternoon Illumi," Salar patted the man on the shoulder in friendly greeting whilst the other actors took the chance to bolt down a small corridor towards the bedrooms so that Salar couldn't get a proper look at them. "Mina informed me that there were prospective tenants coming to inspect the apartment this afternoon, so I thought I'd come and look around as well. And I'm also checking to see that you're fitting in nice and comfortably too." His ice blue gaze swept broadly across the lavish living room taking note of any differences to the last time he was here and made a sound of appreciation when he studied the black leather sofa. 

"I'm fine thanks Salar." The Hunter actors hid in the spacious bathroom and pressed their ear to the door to eavesdrop on the conversation outside, shivering at the cold stings of the tiled floor running up their bare feet. "This place is great – it's at a convenient location and enough room to do my work." Illumi confessed with genuine frankness. The grouch and irritation he had for Hisoka down at the lobby had vanished and he spoke to Salar with politeness and respect, if not also a touch of warmth and perhaps just a dash of amicability as well. Salar nodded. 

"Glad to hear that Illumi-san. I was terribly amused by your gift, and Ku-chan had been horrified when he first saw it." Salar chuckled. "But now – he's all over it. Plays with it more than I do and probably thinks it's his. Oh well," Salar openly laughed out loud with real pleasure, a sound that was old and tentative as if the tone and its emission were foreign to him. "who knew that I possessed the ability to giggle?" 

Salar drifted over and bent down to examine the blinking lights on the entertainment system that took up half wall, his keen eye for electronics alighting with interest at the CD collection. Illumi just watched the enigmatic and unidentifiable man examining his belongings but concealed his worries from his face. Salar might be nice and kind and even _friendly_ to him right now, but the first time he saw the man with his cold eyes and those biting words and he knew that nothing could be taken for granted when it came to dealing with Salar. To make deals with the man was to walk the skinniest and longest tightrope and it required your full and utter concentration for each and every moment. To be distracted for one mere second was to allow the wolf into the sheep's pen and there'd be hell to pay afterwards. He had to be careful. 

"Ku-chan says he's coming over – he's also got something for you as well. I haven't seen him laugh like that for a long time." Salar stood up straight with a CD in his hand with a more formal expression on his face. Small talk was over – time to get to the serious business. 

"So, where is your tenant? Is it someone I know?" 

Illumi left the living room by the small corridor and testily knocked on the bathroom door. Then, speaking as a parent would to a disobedient child, he ordered the four actors to come out from hiding and back in the open so that they could finish the inspection. With heads hanging like sulking children, Illumi mercilessly marched them back under the gaze of Salar. Machi instantly wandered over to the far corner of the living room and pretended to be interested in the magnificent view through the window that stretched from roof to floor. Nobu decided that he was thirsty so he hurried into the cozy kitchen to fetch a glass of water whilst Hisoka and Kuroro gave fake smiles of greeting and tried to make a stand. 

Salar studied them all for only the briefest of moments, his eyes flickering over their forms, so that he could connect their faces to their names in his mind and then gave a mirthless laugh. 

"Ah Kuroro – I was wondering when you'd upgrade from the apartment that I hear you've living at. Congratulations, you'll love it here." 

Kuroro gave a small cough and his eyes darted nervously as he tried to think of a gentler way of conveying the news to Salar. 

"I'm…not the new tenant. I'm just here to give opinion and moral support." 

The tall man with Karasu's face daintily raised and eyebrow and turned to Nobu, who was still fiddling with the tap and pouring and refilling his glass for the third time already. 

"Nobunaga-san then? You're one of Illumi's colleagues – well, moving to Andelain Towers is a step in the right direction – " 

The chink of the glass on the marble bench as Nobu bought the cup down interrupted Salar's words. "I'm not the new tenant either." He declared and fought to control the spasming of his cheek and jaw muscles. Then after some strange exercises with his eyebrows, Salar caught on and looked… 

Horrified. 

"Jesus No!" he said, voice strained by a rare display of emotion. He grabbed hold of Illumi's wrist and yanked him over to a more private corner to speak. 

"HISOKA?! Do you know that man's reputation?! I thought you made your stipulations clear in the ad – you want a _responsible, clean _tenant who _abides by the rules_. Hisoka _might_ fulfil those requirements – but I think I can genetically alter pigs to fly first before he can change! Haven't I advised you to do history checks." Salar fervently shook his head in denial. "Have you rung his previous landlord?" 

The magician, although offended and not as amused as his other co-actors, was quick to interfere whilst Illumi innocently shook his head to Salar's last question. "Er…Salar, you shouldn't believe everything that people say." 

Hisoka instantly knew that the cover up had sounded terribly unconvincing, and by the way that Salar was looking at him, more like glaring at him with utter disapproval, he knew his chances of living here were rapidly diminishing. 

"Do you want the cd?" Illumi asked in a hesitant voice, wrist still in Salar's iron grip but his gaze unwaveringly fixed on the object still clutched in Salar's other hand. With such an abrupt and unrelated question, a lesser man would have gone insane and screamed the rest of his rationality away, but being the living ice block, Salar merely frowned and shook his head and dropped the young man's hand. 

"No – I just wanted to play it. I was about to comment on your choice of music and pulled out this one. Mind if I stick it in?" 

But Salar had already stalked over to the machine, switched the power on and inserted the shiny disc before Illumi got to answer him. Perhaps he needed the music to calm down. And whilst he continued to fiddle with the adjustments, he told Illumi which piece it was. 

"You've got the Elgar cello concerto – lovely piece – I could play that when I was five." He touched the 'play' button and music washed away their thoughts to replace it with the composer's own, captured in timelessness in the music to be recreated at will.** A solo cello mournfully pulled out the first doublestop in a deathly still atmosphere and its lone voice continued to sing the melancholic tune. 

"The last time I played it was at Lola's wedding." Salar whispered wistfully to himself as one would whisper a private message to a dead love one over their grave, then adjusted the knob and turned down the volume by a fraction. When he straightened his back, and the look of nostalgic reminiscence on his face replaced by an uncompromising resolve, he almost became another person. 

"Mina – set up my laptop – I'm going to dictate some extra clauses to go into the lease." 

"Hey, what right do you have to do that?" Hisoka demanded, but the introduction of the lilting melody by the violas nullified his outrage. "Illumi's the landlord here." He tried to add but was cut off. The full force of Salar's menace was upon him. 

"Didn't Miss Jenkins inform you already? The owner of Andelain Towers reserves all rights to expel unfit residents by the opinion that he forms." Salar said sharply, compellation and authority surging into his voice like a tidal wave, completely erasing the mild friendly tone he shared with Illumi only short minutes ago. Even the full force of the orchestra couldn't wear away the sharp, deadly and cutting edges in his resolve. He alone seemed unaffected. 

"Yeah – I got that part." Hisoka quietly mumbled. 

"And I'm the owner of Andelain Towers. So now, lets set out some extra conditions on the lease because if Illumi ever finds mold growing in his bathroom, or the other residents begin to complain about the stink of clothes that haven't been washed for a month, I want to make sure that this contingency will be provided for in the contract and will give me full powers to eject you from my building." 

The defiance and anger slipped away, eroded by Hisoka's own irrational fear of the new Salar that he was unfamiliar with and the pull of the tragic music that was threatening to sap him of every jovial thought. 

"I can be clean." He squeaked. "You just set the conditions, and I'll show you that I can abide by the rules." 

"Alright." Salar snapped, his finely narrowed eyes flashed a pale but potent malevolent fire at the challenge. 

"I'll give you three chances – if the receptionist at the lobby ever sees you bringing questionable people into the building, that's strike one. If Illumi ever complains about your lack of cleanliness or I hear complaints about how rats are festering in this place because of you, that's strike two. And if you ever exert unnecessary force or violence towards anyone in the building, landlord especially, that's strike three, and I instantly kick you out onto the streets. Got that Mina?" 

"Yes sir." She responded immediately, her hands that had previously been flying rapidly over the keys of the keyboard abruptly stopped and she jabbed the 'full stop' key with a flourish. 

Salar nodded stiffly. "That's just to reinforce my standing and power over you when you live in this building. He's another clause – possession of illicit drugs in Andelain Towers leads to immediate ejection. You so much as sniff coke or shoot up in here Hisoka, and I'll kill you and dump your body in Northside – no, don't type that last threat in Mina." 

Machi knew this was a tense situation, but she couldn't help feeling small bubbles of giggles beginning to fountain inside her like a rush of warmth at the way Salar handled Hisoka. Dictate terms! Not even Dancho could do that to Hisoka at Hunter Works. The magician had a look of complete powerlessness for two reasons. One was that Salar's firm belief that Hisoka would not turn down a chance to live in Andelain Towers given its magnificent luxury and would thus settle for any terms he laid down allowed him to drive home the most intrusive terms of agreement. Second was because they were not in Hunter territory anymore, not even Anime City territory. Andelain Towers was unashamedly Vallan in character with its embodiment of the epitome of beauty and perfection, meaning that they were in Salar's world now and he couldn't give a damn for the actors' code duello. 

"And" Salar's words viciously cut through her thoughts "no personal wild parties that last till four in the morning and involves an unhealthy consumption of alcohol and insobriety. If the other residents complain about the noise levels, that's another strike. You want to throw a party – do it in Elysian or rent another small hall and don't tear my apartment down with it. That's it, I'm pretty satisfied with that. What say you Illumi-san" 

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Illumi wandered out of his room with a small white plastic bottle of pills in his hand and went to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. "I don't do any of that stuff anyway, so it won't affect me." He looked up from the tap at Hisoka. "And besides, it'll be good if Hisoka can keep his promises about keeping this place clean. I'll work out the finer house rules with him at a later date." 

He unscrewed the cap of the bottle and shook out two small white tablets. He grimaced as he popped them into his mouth and took a large draught of water to swallow it down. 

The chimes of the doorbell rung again. When the Mina went to open the door, a small brown creature zipped in between her feet and zigzagged along the polished tiled floors, producing a sound that sounded strangely like a 'quack'. 

"It's Master Kurei." Mina announced, unable to hide the flush on her face as Kurei gave her a small smile and waltzed past her with a large pot in his hands. He saw the brown furry creature now in Salar's hands and pouted. 

"Quacker! Come back here!" he ordered, hastily putting the pot on the stove in the kitchen and hurried to Salar's side and made to take the creature from his mentor. 

"Can I have him back please mentor." He whinnied when the latter held the creature up high and out of reach. 

He was looking at a sleek and flat animal with a furry brown body, a beaver's tail, a duck's bill and four webbed feet. It was making a small quacking noise and nibbled on Salar's fingers with his bill. 

"What is that disgusting creature?!" Kuroro observed with horror. Salar laughed aloud. 

"This is an Australian mammal – the platypus – hatches eggs like a bird and can swim like a fish and makes burrows in the mud banks! Isn't he hilarious?" The man held the toy by the tail and hung him upside down. Quacker squawked a bit and bent its body and tried to bite at Salar's fingers. He laughed aloud in amusement before Kurei jumped up and snatched the creature from him then tucked him neatly into his coat pocket with the head sticking out. 

"Mina, print out the lease and have Hisoka sign it then." 

The young girl nodded and began to order the laptop to print but suddenly froze. 

"Oh, password. I'll do it." Kurei offered and sat beside her, his hands meticulously working at the keyboards. Machi pitied the girl who had been so confident and lively before and was now reduced into just another ordinary girl with a fiercely blushing face and shy quivering lips that uttered a thank you. 

Kurei fed the white A4 paper in from one end of the laptop, and it emerged out the other with end complete with the letter head and writing. 

"I didn't know laptops had in-built printers." Nobu flatly observed. 

"They don't. I designed and built this one to suit my needs. Come on Ku – tell Illumi-san what you gave him and let's get moving. Places to be remember." 

Illumi had already moved into the kitchen beside Nobu with his sixth refilled glass of water and tilted the lid slightly up to let slip wonderful aromas that assaulted their nostrils. Both inquisitively peered into the black pot and saw speck of whitish substance floating in a sea of murky beige and grey water. 

"Poridge." Kurei explained curtly, face beaming with expectation of praise as he packed up the laptop and carefully strapped it back inside its bag. "I cooked it myself!" 

"That's a lot for one person." Nobu commented with a spoon in hand. He reached in to dredge some of the rice porridge up and tasted it whilst professionally smacking his lips. He gave a shiver of delight and instantly asked Illumi where the bowls were with irrepressible hunger in his eyes. 

"Did you stuff up the proportions again Ku? Then had to add more porridge on top to equalize it?" Kurei shied away from the penetrating gaze of his mentor but had to give a weak nod. Salar took Quacker from his pocket and placed it on his own left shoulder so that you could see his fore flippers. He absentmindedly stroked the animal on the head and made his goodbyes. 

"Ok then. Everything is in order then. Ah…one more thing though." His hand reached into the outer compartment of his laptop bag that he now shouldered on the right, a cruel smirk playing on his face. 

"You are going to be famous Illumi-san. I managed to get myself the headlines for next Monday's paper. And you are on the front cover." 

He retrieved a folded sheet of paper and flicked it open with a smart snap of his wrist so that they could all huddle in and study the image. 

There were two groups of people, one group on the left, one on the right and both seemed to be pulling at two very familiar figures. There was a man standing right in the precarious middle whilst the distinct figure of Illumi on the right was in the middle of his punch. Mina Jenkins gasped aloud with fright. 

"That's Darien von Drosgen!" she squealed, terror on her face as she looked to Illumi. "You _punched_ Darien von Drosgen in the middle of the park in broad daylight?" 

"Decked him in one go too." Nobu grinned with a note of satisfaction, bowl in hand and slurping spoonfuls of the porridge with enthusiasm. "You should see what we did with him afterwards. Anyone got the small copy of Hanzo's picture on them?" 

Machi shook her head, Hisoka muttered something about the glove box in his car but Kuroro immediately reached in his back pocket and took out his wallet, flipped it open and withdrew a small coloured picture then passed it around to Mina and Kurei to see. Both their eyes boggled. With slightly trembling hands, Kurei handed it to Salar for a look. 

True to his reputation, Salar's eyes did not ogle nor did he produce any outward signs of surprise at the large group's exultant trophy stance over Darien's fallen body. He chuckled as well and returned the photo. 

"And you keep that in your wallet?" he asked softly with lips curled in amusement. Kuroro returned the same look. 

"Yep." 

Salar shook his head in disbelief but the smile still plastered onto his face. "Lets go Kurei. Leave them to celebrate their victories. Illumi-san, the next time I'll be in here will be under invitation only. Take care." 

"Gimme Quacker." Kurei trailed after his mentor who was easily fending off and slapping away those prying and eager hands attempting to appropriate the toy slung on his shoulder. 

The first movement of the cello concerto came to an end and Illumi took out the disc and replaced it on the shelf. He wearilystudied Hisoka, chewing on the insides of his cheeks for a few moments before he got back into the main topic. 

"All right – your bedroom is the first room on the left in this small corridor. The bathroom you uses is opposite your bedroom. The room further down on the left is my bedroom – I have my own en suite so I won't be using your bathroom…except when I want to use the spa. So you are in charge of keeping it _clean_ – I don't want to see a fungus colony thriving you understand! And the locked room at the end f the corridor is my work room – do NOT try to force it open." Illumi looked around him to see if he had missed anything. 

"And as to the kitchen and this living room – you make a mess, you clean it up. I want it **spotless** after you are done with your dinner or whatever. **Especially **my kitchen – I don't want to see dirty plates and utensils lying in the sink to rot like they did previously in your old apartment and on your floor! You not only wash them until it's sparkling clean, you ALSO put them back into their proper shelves. Good. That's it. I need sleep. Ms Jenkins, let him sign the lease."   


* * *

  


The phone was ringing in one of the larger luxurious mansions in Fame Court. Lola winced in irritation as she peeled off her dish washing gloves that were dripping with detergent water and making a mess all over the bench already. She ran to pick up the phone thinking how she would have to get her hands wet trying to fit them back into the glove again. 

"Hello?" she tried not to sound agitated or annoyed. 

"Ah, hello there Lola, it's Xelloss here." _Stupid purple-haired trickster_ Lola sniffed inaudibly at his shifty voice. "Could I speak to your husband please?" 

"Just hold." She laid the receiver on the kitchen bench and went to the house intercom. She pushed a green button and held it down as she spoke into the machine. 

"Karasu! Phone!" she barked. He was conveniently holed up in his study working, pouring over stacks of papers and occasionally throwing a binder out the window in frustration. 

Sounds of animated talking emitted from the receiver so she quietly hung it back into its resting position and tackled the task of putting those gloves back on without letting water seep into them. Kaéry poked his head around the corner of the kitchen door. 

"Was that Xe mum?" he quietly asked her with large blue and sullen eyes. 

"For the sixth time today Kay!" Lola growled. "No – it was for your father. If you want to talk to Xe, use your phone and call him!" 

Kaéry sniffed a bit and slinked away, the tiny sounds of his footsteps fading quietly into nothing. 

"Eavesdrop on your father," Lola continued without looking up from the mountain of mess in the sink, "and I'm taking away your privileges for a month!" 

"Drats." Kay's voice floated back down and the footsteps neared again. 

"Kay honey, why don't you help you mum with the dishes since you've got nothing to do?" Lola called out sweetly. "It's a request, not an order!" she continued to happily sing as she emptied half a bottle of detergent and took satisfaction in viciously squirting the clear yellow liquid over all the plates.   
  
  
  


"Karasu! HELP!" Xelloss hissed over the phone. 

"Over acting again Xel, what's up and why are you whispering like that?" Karasu attacked his calculator and jabbed some numbers in, comparing them to those on the paper in front of him. 

"Because I'm talking to you from the inside of my closet and I don't want my son to hear! Xelan has been driving me up the wall these past three weeks! Snaps at _anything_ I say or do. Did you know that he hasn't invited Kay over for the past three weeks? I don't think they've been speaking to each other!" 

Karasu put his pen down and gave real consideration to Xelloss words. Kay had been acting strangely as well and Lola was starting to complain that it 'bugged her'. Why else was he still barricaded in his study and doing work on a Friday night at ten thirty instead of out drinking with his wife or watching a family movie together? He didn't want to admit it, but Prince Kay was on the prowl and everyone beware. 

"They might be fighting or something." He began slowly. "And because they're not speaking to each other, then they obviously have to find something to distract their brilliant minds." 

"I DON'T FRICKIN' CARE!" Xelloss continued to hiss, hinting at his total desperation. "I want to know _why_ they've been fighting so I can bloody solve it! I'm _sneaking_ a call to you _from my freakin closet!_ This is what I've been reduced to! Oh shit…I hear something…" 

The line from Xelloss' side went deathly quite. Then came the muted padding of footsteps and then some loud banging followed. 

"Dad?" Xelan's sweet and angelic voice echoed through to Karasu's ear without a trace of ill intent. "Dad? Where are you? Don't you want to take out the Elysian's architectural floor plans so we can study it and calculate an alternative method of using less structure beams to come up with a building that high? Dad?" 

The voice floated away again, but Xelloss just waited a little longer before he allowed himself to give a sigh of relief. 

"Karasu, you there?" he whispered. 

"What was that banging noise?" 

He heard Xelloss' trembling breath. "Oh…he just checked in my wife's shoe closet and thank god he didn't open this one. So…got any ideas how we can put an end to this?" 

"You rang me – so I presume you've got some suggestions." 

"Well…yes, I do, but I don't know if you're willing to help." The purple haired lawyer sounded hesitant. "You see…I was thinking that since your brother was back in town…maybe you could go to him for some advice." 

"NO." 

"Oh come on Karasu!" Xelloss cried out loud by quickly muffled his voice down to an almost inaudible murmur again, sniffing piteously as he did so. "Like you have any idea how to stop this. Your wife, might I remind you, is going to snap soon if Kay keeps on bugging her like that and I have no _clue_ as to what even started this! Please, please, PLEASE! I'm begging you – for both our sanity's sake. Your brother is the only thing out there smarter than Xe and Kay combined! He can fix this! He's our hope!" 

Karasu clenched his teeth and glared at his pen, thinking about his brother who hadn't even bothered to ring them and tell them that he had arrived back in Anime City for the past three weeks. Hadn't even visited them or bought Kaéry a souvenir. But Xelloss was undeniably right. Karasu was lucky in that he could hide from the walking menace with his mountain of work, but Xelloss' wife had moved out of house just recently, leaving the poor guy to tackle his son alone. Time to put both fathers out of their misery. 

"I'll call him." He said shortly and heard another relieved sigh from the other end. "I'll do it now then. And get out of the house Xelloss, even if it means you have to jump from the window – I don't want to have to visit you in a mental institution the next time I see you." 

Karasu almost felt the man's emphatic nods as he hung up and dialed another set of numbers. 

"Hello Karasu." The phone was picked up immediately from the other side. The voice that spoke to him was filled with calm confidence and imagined contempt. "What do you want?" 

"It's – " 

"It can't be because of Lola – she solves her problems by herself. You wouldn't ask me for help even if you had to wade through half a mile of shit to find your answer, so it must be Kay." 

"Yeah – " 

"Wouldn't be business problems – he's smart enough not to give himself problems. So I assume it's personal." 

"Er – " 

"Oh, I get it – he's on bad terms with Xelan?" 

"Um – " 

"I've got five minutes to spare tomorrow morning. Tell Kay to meet me at _Ambrosia House_ at nine forty- five. I'll just give him a few words." 

"Are – " 

"Good. Anything else you want? No? – goodbye then." 

The line went dead and Karasu stared at the receiver 'dooting' the tone of a dead line with mixed emotions of incredulity and sickened disbelief. Could Salar read minds now or something?   


* * *

  


**Saturday, 9:00am – Yomi's Residence**

Mistress floated up the stairs giving the clock on the wall a glance to note down the time. Her son's room was locked shut and she had just retrieved the spare from underneath the store room planks. Whatever her son was up to, it had to stop now. 

"Shura dear," she inserted the key and gave it a savage twist. "It's nine o'clock already – don't you need to get ready for school?" 

"No, please don't make me go outside!" her son wailed from insider the cocoon of his doona. Mistress gave an affectionate sigh and sat down on the edge of his bed, gently prying those strong fingers off the bed covers that Shura had flung over his head. 

"Honey pie," she tuned her voice to sound worried and concerned, "you've been cooping yourself up in the house for the past three days. Now you don't want to go to school? Are you sick?" her slim hand reached out to feel his forehead but Shura violently jerked away. 

"No mum! You don't understand!" he howled like an injured animal and fought to regain the control of the covers so he could just hide from the world beneath his doona. 

Mistress frowned slightly. "Then make me understand, or if mother can't understand, why don't you find Kaéry and Xelan to help you with your problems then. You three are all kids around the same age." 

With the mention of their names, Shura's eyes widened with real fear and he rolled his head from side to side on his well fluffed pillow, constantly worming himself into the far corner of the bed away from his mother. 

"Please mum, please mum, they're crazy! I don't want to go anywhere near them!" he sobbed and managed to pull the covers above his head again. Mistress snatched the blanket away from him and looked at him crossly. 

"What have I told you about saying nasty things, especially about your friends!" her luscious lips pressed into a grim line. "Now try your best to tell your mother what's wrong this instant or I tell your father!" 

Shura tried a few tricks that Xelan had taught him about manipulating the emotions of grown ups but wasn't very successful. He didn't have the purple haired boy's large and innocent eyes or those thick and smothering lashes, nor did he have Kaéry's oratory abilities to reach a compromise with his parents. So he just sighed and fixed his mangled pyjamas and sat on the edge of the bed next to his mum and tried to explain the situation to the best of his abilities with wild accompanying gestures. 

"There's like this…cold war they're waging against each other. Kaéry pulls out Karuto every time I arrange to meet together and Xelan is like this vicious viper who hisses and snaps at anything that we say! You think he's all cute and angelic, see-no-evil hear-no-evil type of kid but he's not! I've shivered under the harsh and beating summer sun at those cold, cold blue eyes that he uses to look at Kay and his new girlfriend. Do you have any idea how _afraid_ I am to stand near Kaéry when he frowns and bares his teeth? He's seriously like this mad dog who's slipped its leash and is looking for any excuse to rip out my precious throat! I can't stand it mother! I can't go out there anymore knowing that the two are lurking and stalking the streets, falling on hapless victims." 

Shura looked into his mother's blank and uncomprehending eyes for a long moment then gave a defeated, forlorn sigh. 

"I knew you wouldn't understand. All right – I'll get dressed and go out onto the streets. If you don't hear from me by nightfall, then go to the beach and retrieve my dead and lifeless body entangled in seaweed and drifted onto the desolate sandy shores by the tide underneath the mourning moonlight." 

Mistress ran her fingers through Shura's hair and gave him a big kiss on both cheeks. 

"Why Shura, that was just gothically romantic! See, I knew Kay and Xelan were good company." 

She left the room and politely closed his door whilst Shura changed out of his pyjamas and into his casual clothes, mutely sobbing all the way.   


* * *

  


**9:45 am – _Ambrosia House_**

Kaéry was walking many brightly lit store windows, curiosity the only thing gnawing at his mind by the appointment that his dad had made for him and he tried to come up with all the possible reasons and came up with nothing. He was going to see his uncle – and you could never predict anything with that man. Kaéry prided himself in being able to read people, gleaning vital information from the body language alone, then picking up even more just from the language and paying notice to the particular choice of words. 

His uncle was a good man, but at times, Kay wondered whether he was truly human or not for there was nothing on the surface to see. Uncle Salar had two smiles – a friendly one, and one that made your skin crawl and made you wish that you were very far away. And he smiled in a way that made it look slightly reluctant and partly obligatory, even those rare friendly ones. His father did not get along with his uncle, and according to rumors, they never had, even when they were children. Only recently, Kaéry understood a little of why. A lot of his dad's friends have said that he would grow up to be a humanized, and infinitely more amiable version of his uncle and stressed that it was something to be very proud of. 

That part he didn't understand – to be proud to be human or to be smart like Uncle Salar? 

His uncle liked him because he was one of the few recipients of those rare friendly smiles. Still, it said nothing about his person. The friendly smile was just a movement of the lips upwards, that was all. Half the time, those ice blue eyes would be boring holes into your skull to see what makes your mind tick even when those self same lips lifted up into a friendly smile. Sometimes, the gaze was so cold-blooded that Kay shied away from his uncle, left to ponder if he was only friendly with him because he was Lola's son. 

His legs carried him further into the heart of Elysian's shopping mall, and because the day was still early, there were only a few customers, spread out thinly in the massive complex. Ambrosia House was a famous coffee and tea house that served any coffee or tea under the sun. Kay's hand trailed along the bronze railing and through the glass panel, he saw the open store two levels beneath him. He worked out from here, you could get the best view on all the customers drinking away and saw that his uncle was already there, gently blowing steam off a cup of tea presented in those fine china cups that came with a lid but had no handle. 

Salar was calmly sipping his tea with his eyes focused inward into the workings of his mind. He drank the tea with perfect manners, set the cup back down onto the saucer without making the slightest noise and merely _sat_ there. He didn't appear tense or relaxed, his face betrayed no emotions – no signs of deep and troubling thoughts nor fond remembrance of happy memories. Damn – the man just _sat_ there – bent the joints of his leg in the right places so that he sat in the chair and that was it. 

_At least look at the clock!_ Kaéry silently fumed. _Then I'd know you _have_ plans today_. But no, his uncle was as unexpressive as an android and his posture or actions gave nothing away. 

All of a sudden, Salar's piercing eyes caught Kaéry's and the child gulped, waving back with a small smile on his face whilst he silently cursed himself. 

_Damn – he knew I was watching him!_

His uncle didn't smile when Kaéry took a seat beside him but he didn't look unfriendly either. He placed a hand over the menu Kay was going to order from to signal (at last!) that this was only going to be a brief encounter. 

"We are different from everyone Kay – you must have realized this by now. We pride ourselves in who and what we are – and value what we have that everyone else lacks above _everything _else there is. I'm glad we had this chat, now go fix your problems." 

Salar took a large draught out of the china cup and left a small bill on the saucer, snapping his fingers to inform to one of the groggy waiters that he was leaving. Only after Salar had left did Kaéry groan aloud and tried to discern just exactly _what in nine hells_ his uncle had been talking about.   


* * *

  


**10:00 am, Zoldick Mansion**

Shura skipped Saturday School. He couldn't care less if Principal Gaav later rang home and told his parents about his misbehaviour. His mother might get cross with him and his dad might even yell at him, but at least he'd have his sanity safely secured. This happy thought earned a merry tune that Shura whistled aloud but quickly suppressed it as his eyes darted from side to side like a prey who had just caught whiff of a predator. It would be unwise to give away your position, especially with two demons from hell stalking the streets. If his mum didn't let him stay home, then he could easily find a sanctuary or haven in another person's home. 

He had been on good terms with Alluka since day one of Saturday school so the best place to head to would be Zoldick Mansion. He had visited the house a couple of times already to show Alluka some professional karate moves and knew exactly which way to go to avoid mainstream society even if it meant adding a few sticks and twigs in his hair. 

Reaching Zoldick Mansion proved too easy and he pressed on the intercom outside the impassive black iron gates and patiently waited for the butler to respond. 

"_Another_ of Master Killua and Master Alluka's friends?" came a tiredly bored and exasperated voice from the other side. 

"Yes?" Shura hesitantly replied and wondered what the butler had meant by those words. Did this mean that other people had come to Zoldick mansion to seek shelter? 

The black iron gates swung open without a sound and Shura raced up the gravel path towards the massive double doors of the main entrance. The butler pulled the doors open and looked down on him through fine rimmed glasses. 

"Oh, hello Goto – Killua and Alluka skipping Saturday school today?" he stepped in and made some small talk. 

"Yes young sir. Our two young masters managed to persuade Master Silva that there some was unholy terror out on the streets and that home was safest. Other children from Saturday school have been coming in with similar lines. Master Silva believes that this is just some English group assignment on role playing, yes?" 

Shura took his cue and immediately nodded his head. Lying did not come easy to him like a rabbit attacking a carrot as it did with Kaéry and Xelan, but he was so fine tuned and alert right now that nothing could put him off balance. 

Until he saw all the class, minus the girls, despondently laying around in Killua's living room and staring listlessly at the ceiling. They murmured the solitary word now and then, not making much sense and generally exhibited the symptoms of one whose life essence and soul had been sucked dry. 

"Goodness! You're all acting like pathetic girls!" Shura cried out. "Have you all been approached by Xelan?" 

They all nodded in unison, fifteen dull pairs of eyes like dead fish fixed on him. Alluka rolled to one side and with weak and shaking hands clawed himself up onto the couch. 

"He came up to us when we were practicing our soccer shots." He whispered like a broken and borderline delirious man. He swallowed audibly and raggedly continued. 

"Wanted to play as well, so we let him. But he got tired easily and wanted us all to sit down and work out the trajectory and velocity behind the curve balls and calculate the amount of force necessary to imitate a Zidan goal. He spent four hours explaining to us the marvels of gravity, friction and something about hang time…but thank god he had to go home for dinner….thank god." 

"And then," Sasuke added "he wanted us to make witty and sarcastic comments whilst he read…Flaubert's Madame Bovary – in French!" 

The next hour was dominated by the other boys all revealing their dreadful and horrifying experiences with either Xelan or Kaéry, none of them pretty, most of which involved the painful abuse of their neurons and resulting migraines. 

"He looked like he wanted to murder me after I rejected his offer to brush his hair." Shura recalled, the last to speak. "Brush hair! Come on – we're men! I even suggested that he should cut his hair off if he couldn't handle it and he held the brush like a cleaver I swear! I quickly found out that I was needed elsewhere and made a fast exit. 

But we've got to make a stand. We can't sulk and mope about like this!" 

"You do something hotshot!" Hiei glared at him. 

The doorbell resounded around them. They tensely awaited to see who else it could be and almost died when Goto led Xelan into the room. The frail boy was dressed very casually today, wearing a pair of black shorts revealing lolly-pop skinny pale legs and a rough faded brown t-shirt displaying slender arms. His long glossy purple hair was tied in its usual way, with one black velvet ribbon halfway down his back, and he curiously twiddled with the tips in his fingers as he studied them all lying on Killua's living room floor. 

"I've got two tennis balls and an invitation for you all to _Luigi's Woodstove_. Anyone up for a game of brandy in the park and then lunch at _Luigi's_ afterwards?" 

Everyone perked up at the mention of _Luigi's_ – it was the best Italian pizza store in town and offered at least fifteen generous toppings. They jumped to their feet with new life and vitality and rigorously nodded. Brandy was the best game around after all.   


* * *

  


**2:00pm – _Luigi's Woodstove_**

They managed three games, each lasting an average of one hour. Killua and Naruto emerged as the victors as with all three rounds, they were the last to be caught. They trusted no one, hid well, dodged nimbly and were fast enough to outrun their empty handed chasers to find a new hiding spot. 

Gang up Brandy was a great game – two people were labelled 'it' at the beginning (matter of random choice) and gave a sixty second head start for people to hide in the bushes and forest of trees in the park. Then each took a ball and separated, tracking down the people 'not it' and touching them with the tennis ball to make them 'it' just like themselves. The number of people who became 'it' therefore multiplied whilst the people 'not it' became the diminishing hunted prey and were 'ganged up' upon. Some actors liked to stick together, safety in numbers. The most exciting part would be when another child actor would approach them like they had just been chased, only to produce a tennis ball from out of nowhere to chase them down. Yoh had a good arm and could get people with the tennis ball over a medium distance – unless you were smart enough not to run in a straight line. Sasuke, when 'it', was good at holding the 'not it' people down whilst he waited for someone with a tennis ball to arrive. The two 'it' people in the beginning of the next game would be the first two people caught in the previous game. 

The last game was the most exciting – Naruto had just been captured and pulled to ground by Tao Ren and Phibrizzo as he tried to make an escape. Hiei and Amanuma then joined the foray and threw themselves on top just to make sure Naruto couldn't try to throw the other two off. He stopped struggling immediately after Alluka ground the ball in his cheek to relish in him becoming 'it' just like them all. Only his devious and cunning brother remained. They split up again, the tennis balls no longer hidden because everyone was Killua's enemy. 

"THERE HE IS!" Rinku hollered seeing Killua sprinting across an open field, taking the chance to make it to the thick foliage of bushes were they could never get him and a new game would be declared. "WHO'S GOT THE BALL?" Rinku continued to shout, immediately giving chase and trying to sprint up to Killua so he could pull the boy down. From other directions, Shura and Shinta were also closing in on Killua and trying to reach the bushes first before Killua could disappear into them. 

Killua was fast, but Rinku was not all that slow either. He was gaining on him and was about six meters behind when someone shouted his name. 

Xelan didn't do so well with gang up brandy – he wasn't fast enough and couldn't be trusted to throw straight. In fact, he was a fragile and delicate boy and scored himself a few small cuts and scratches in the bushes and a small bruise on the cheek where a ball had hit him. There was the neon green ball in his hand and he threw it out across the grassy open. 

Yes! He had thrown straight and true! Rinku caught the ball then lobbed it to Shura who was already in front of the bushes, chest heaving and panting heavily but a victorious grin on his face. He grinned in triumph as Killua's eyes widened in fear at the ball in his hand and he made a sharp turn, deciding to give up on the bushes. But Shinta, and not far behind him, Yoh, were there to block his path and Killua sharply turned to run in the opposite direction, only to be tackled to the ground when Shinta had launched himself onto him behind and Rinku closed in on him from the side and caught him in a bear hug. The three boys instantly fell crashing to the ground and all Shura had to do was smartly tap the tennis ball on Killua's exposed forehead beneath the press of bodies 

"WE GOT HIM THIS TIME!" Rinku beamed as they all got off the flattened Killua and dusted themselves off, laughing after the spectacular chase and the cornering – the _teamwork_ involved. 

So laughing loudly and joyously, all of them barged into _Luigi's_ and asked for tall glasses of ice cold drinks and family sized pizzas with extra cheese. They were happily whooping away and recounting tales of conquest and triumph, how they managed to capture so-and-so, how they had managed to out run whoever or that they found a great place to hide and so on. 

Xelan's shirt had become a mangled wreck, but that was expected in a game of brandy. Your desperation to get away from those 'it' and especially those with the tennis ball was very real, so real that your feet continued to run despite the pull on your shirt. He'd been thrown to the ground once and caught in a headlock as well. The third time he got it was when he was careless and allowed himself to panic as an actor in their midst suddenly grinned wickedly and withdrew the tennis ball and ran around them all with an outstretched hand. A small trickle of blood ran down his shins where he had fallen over in a (successful) attempt to run away, but the other kids said that it happens all the time and there'll only be one harmless scab. He dusted some more at the dirt marks in his shorts that wouldn't go away. 

"You have to put that in the washer." Naruto said beside him. "Good idea to wear rough shorts – gang up brandy can be a dirty game." 

"I'll say." Xelan gave him a big smile and took an equally large bite out of his pizza. 

The bells tinkled as another customer entered. Kaéry was dressed in another one of his black suits and he walked straight up to Xelan in amazement, ignoring the other boisterous actors sitting at the long table and happily bragging away. 

"Xe?! What happened to you?!" Kaéry intently studied the scruffy Xelan with incredulous violet eyes. "Your cheek…did someone hurt you?!" 

Xelan lost all his gaiety and gave Kay an indifferent response. "I was playing gang up brandy." 

The black haired boy looked puzzled and worried. "No-holding-back full-on-tackle gang up brandy?" 

"YUP!" everyone shouted and laughed again. Kaéry spoke to Xelan as if the people were still not there. 

"Xelan," he began in all seriousness "I'm here to say that I'm sorry." 

His best friend finally looked him in the eye. "Sorry for what Kay?" he asked quietly, small voice wavering with pent-up emotions. Kaéry took a deep breath but he spoke with determined steadiness. 

"I'm sorry about finding a girl and ditching you. I now realize that should have never happened. I am supposed to be a creature of reason and cold logic – I should have calculated that your friendship is infinitely more valuable than a short-lived, meaningless fling with a girl who I don't really like. I should have understood that nothing can come between us but became deluded by my emotions." Kay reached a hand into his shoulder bag and withdrew a finely wrapped box, about the size of a small alarm clock and presented it to the other child. 

"Could you please forgive me Xe?" 

Xelan's eager hands almost snatched the gift from Kaéry's hand and he recklessly worked at the ribbons. He carelessly dropped the ribbon on the ground, more concerned with the contents inside, and after he lifted the box cover, he instantly beamed up with delight. It was a crystal figurine of a squirrel twinkling a radiance of colours on the palm of his hand as he held it up to the sun. Xelan didn't care for the creature – he just liked shiny, pretty things. 

"All forgiven Kay," he shyly said and hustled closer to Naruto so as to make room for his buddy. "Why don't you join us for lunch? Luigi's gonna make us HUGE pizzas today. Make room guys!" Xelan called down to the other end of the table and everyone immediately began to shuffle down. Kay cautiously sat down and took a sip from Xelan's drink, tentatively returning the demure smile Xelan was still showering him with. A terrible and oppressive weight that had been chained to his heart was suddenly lifted, and he could breathe and smile more easily again. 

"Same thing next weekend everyone?" Hiei suggested. 

He received a chorus of unanimous agreement.   
  


* * *

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**Author's notes – Part II**

Wow – I just finished an exam today and had to get this up before I studied my next one (Corporations….urgh…). Small things to note: 

"Gang up brandy" is a real game – I used to play it all the time when I was in primary school and would have gladly continued playing it if all the girls in my all girls high school weren't so prim and proper. It's the best game ever especially with the 'gang up' aspect, and the fact that you only need two tennis balls or one to play. You can include a large number of people (we used to play with about 20) and by gods it was so fun pulling the biggest and toughest guys in our year level down by sheer numbers alone. They kicked and fought like a bull, but instantly changed when they became 'it' like everyone else. 

To better understand the meaning of Salar's words when he played the Elgar cello concerto, you can do some research into why Elgar wrote the piece. The Naxos CD jacket says: _Even then the excitement and joy of other principal theme are broken by references to earlier themes in the concerto and the mood of autumnal introspective melancholy that make this one of Elgar's greatest works. At the end of the score, whereas Haydn might have written _Deo Gratias,_ Elgar wrote the words _Finis. R.I.P_, intentionally or not signally the concerto as the end of his creative life, the end of the war (WWI) but also the end of an age._ I'll let you guys ponder on that before I reveal some more. 

And to all the authors reading – PLEASE review and tell me the things you didn't like and** why**. I would also appreciate opinions about my OCs as well. 


	14. Chapter 14: Adventures in Northside

****   
**Authors Notes: **Aiee! I got the street names wrong! Fame Court runs EAST towards the beaches whilst it's _Fortune's Park_ that runs north and into Northside. Sorry if I got the name mucked up in the opening of Chapter 12 *sigh* silly me…. 

**Chapter 14******

**Adventures in Northside**   


* * *

**Sunday, 12:30pm**

Integral Hellsing, was inside a classy vintage clothes store and half-heartedly picking through a rack of clothing, feeling bored. Her delicate tanned hand lazily drifted to the jewel around her throat at times, fingering the new Bvalgari diamond necklace that her father had just recently bought her after the first half of the Hellsing season was over. Acting was tedious and tiring, if not downright uncomfortable. Dressed in a man's suit, choking on the tie, forced to puff away like an addict those on hideous small cigars almost made her want to throw up. But Daddy had wanted nothing less than professionalism from her, so even if she sulked quietly in her trailer, shot people unfriendly looks and practiced a wrinkle-giving intimidating glare in the mirror, she gave the production everything she had. 

The biggest obstacle to the smooth working on set, she quietly meditated as she pulled out a white shirt to get a better look at the sleeves, was when your main actress and main actor mixed as well as oil and water. Alucard gave her splintering headaches, painful enough that she almost succumbed to the urge to run to her Daddy and complain. Even the mere thought about those pangs stabbing at the sides of her temples were enough to conjure moist beads in her eyes, so she determinedly turned to some more colourful clothing to help distract her unhealthy thoughts. 

But the problem with Alucard would not, and could not go away – not for a long time. Whilst they were still showing the Hellsing episodes once a week and the predictable hype about how the story hadn't officially ended, they would have to attend endless promos and functions – together. And even worse, perhaps arm in arm. 

"My good lady, why does such a beautiful woman as yourself sigh so sadly?" The smooth tenor of a voice belonging to a man spoke behind her, catching her off guard. She started a bit, so caught up with the problem of her co-actor that she hadn't realized someone had walked up behind her. For a moment, she was afraid that it was another of those crazy fans, stalking the cold and proud Sir Integral (doesn't _anyone_ know what the word 'acting' means anymore?) to get a rise, but the well mannered and seemingly well cultured voice behind her had easily disarmed any mental defences she might have had. 

She spun around, her long blond hair whipping around her shoulders at the speed but quickly resumed their rightful position. Her breath caught in her throat – she was standing in front of a man that was everything Alucard was not! He was tall, slender, _elegant_ – just how many men could you describe as _elegant_ these days? – and undeniably handsome. His black hair was like silk, soft and shiny with the longer strands tickling the base of his neck. The style was at least three seasons out, but on him, it looked good. And on his finely featured face were a pair of gentle blue eyes, as light as a brook's sparkling waters. Her cheeks grew hot and her throat constricted. Damn – she was blushing! 

"My name is Salar." His charming smile revealed a perfect row of white teeth. He was holding out his hand to her, just at waist height. 

_You're supposed to take the hand!_ The part of her still functioning and not awestruck by this man's splendid presence reminded her with exasperation. Integral felt as if her movements were stiff jerks and fumbling, she managed to awkwardly stick out her right hand which he grasped gently, but firmly in his cool and smooth ones. Salar bent low and allowed his lips to brush over her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers, then released it after an appropriate amount of time. Integral managed to stutter a "Nice to meet you" and judged by the burning sensation in her cheeks that her whole face must have become ruby red. 

"What ails you Lady Integral?" he murmured, taking a cautious step back to give her some room to breath. Was her flustering really that obvious? 

"Oh…just don't know what to pick, that's all." She lied, vaguely gesturing to all the clothes around her. The man's gaze followed her hands, around the store at the many colours clamouring for attention. He 'ahhed' in understanding and stepped beside her, keen eyes examining the articles of clothing on the rack and promptly selected two pieces. 

"If the Lady Integral would grant me the favour of wearing these and allow me to treat you to lunch this afternoon?" 

Integral never really worked out how those simple words had been able to win her over so completely. Her body moved with a mind of its own (since the main one was currently stunned stupid), accepted the garments and mechanically drifted her to the change rooms. It was in the change rooms, away from Salar's face, his smile and his manners, his oddly compelling voice, that she had more time to calm herself down and think why the hell someone would just approach her, offer to buy her clothes and take her out to lunch. There was a steady warming in her body, a growing rage that began to free her of her flustering and destroy the fog of complacency which had threatened to settle comfortably in her mind. 

_I suppose he'll ask me to dinner afterwards, then what next? Take a ride home with him and hop into his bed?_

The alarm bells madly tolling in her mind finally shook her out of the stupor she'd stumbled into and she snarled aggressively, her reflection in the mirror much like the renowned Sir Integral Wingates Hellsing. Her fists were tightly clenched around the clothes, and she looked down, wondering what sort of perverted and revealing costume that man had selected for her, that she had idiotically agreed to. 

A black velvet A-line dressed that reached halfway down her calves and a vermilion red silk shirt, heavily oriental in style complete with the sash to tie around the waist wasn't exactly that revealing. In fact, it was peripheral conservative. 

Integral sat down on the chair inside her change cubicle and sighed again looking dubiously at the set of clothes hanging off the hook and her confused mind no closer to obtaining an answer. The sudden knock at the door made her heart leap in her throat and she almost gasped aloud. A pair of pointy shoes with minimal amount of stilleto heel was pushed beneath the door along with a small pair of scissors. 

"Integral-sama, your steward has paid for the clothes already. You may cut the tags off them." The sweet and sugary voice of the salesgirl wafted in. Integral dumbly nodded and slowly reached for the shoes and the scissors. 

_What the hell_, Integral thought dismissively, considering it to be mercy for her poor brain not to torture it under the confusion anymore, and pulled her top off, resolving to play along and kick the man in the nuts if he even appeared aggressive. Daddy made her do gym to get fit, and she'd had enough lessons with Karen doing Taibo to hurt someone in some painful places if she was determined enough. 

She was in the process of buttoning up the shirt when something sparked and bloomed in her mind. His face! She'd seen his face before…on one of the men that Alucard would sometimes hang out with. He was part of the Ex Club…damn…his name was… 

"Karasu." She said out aloud, studying her reflection in the mirror and was astounded by the image. Nothing of the manish Sir Integral clung to her anymore, shed off by the bright splash of red and the soft black of the velvet. Even if she stood tall and rigid like a soldier at a parade, she now merely looked refined and graceful. Feeling slightly childish, she allowed herself a turn in front of the mirror and giggled at the way the skirt swiveled widely. But now she wondered why Karasu would suddenly buy clothes for her. 

_It's not a cruel and humiliating joke that Alucard had concocted with his friend right?_ She uneasily fingered the diamonds on her necklace again, wondering if she should call her Daddy. She felt determined to deal with the situation herself – there were some reputable men in the Ex Club, and Karasu definitely fell into the respectable category. But why had he called himself Salar? Tucking up her chin and slapping on the proud and arrogant face of Sir Integral, she literally stalked out of the cubicle and would get a straight answer and confront Karasu if necessary about this whole scheme. 

He was already standing near the exit and she made sure he saw her storm up to him. The gall of that man to put on a quizzical expression! She silently fumed and halted abruptly an arms length before him. 

"Your name isn't Salar is it? You're one of Alucard's friends – Karasu." She declared bluntly, patiently and severely waiting for whatever excuse he could find and made it clear that she would knee him somewhere painful if he didn't produce and explanation that she liked. He gave a small amused laughter – _well, it won't throw me off_, Integral determinedly steeled herself. 

"There is a man called Karasu, but there is also a man called Salar my fair lady. Who you see today is _not_ Karasu, this I can assure you." 

_Argh! Enigmatic paradoxical answers!_ Integral silently fumed and feverishly hoped that her bewilderment didn't openly show. In the face of such obscure answers you could hardly expect anyone to find a shred or sliver of reason or logic. The only ostensibly rational explanation she could formulate was by making reference to the growing trend of some people to openly parade their alter egos and personas these days, seeing it as some sort postmodern and eccentric novelty. 

"Very well, _Salar_" she said sardonically to remind him that she wasn't impressed with his whole charade, "where do you propose to take me to lunch today?" 

"Heading west dear lady, along Glamour Isle. There is a new restaurant, a relatively small Vallan establishment called the _Bacchanal _that I wish to share with you." 

Vallan? _Vallanor!_ Her bronzed face visibly displayed disapproval. Her Daddy's disapproval. Not long ago, she secretly heard her Daddy yelling and screaming at Uncle Hypnos and Thanatos with such rage and fury that she fled back to her room to hide under the covers. One very distinct word that she heard was _Vallanor_, and whatever her daddy thought was no good will be no good for her. 

He had already hailed the taxi and ushered her into the car whilst those frightful memories had replayed in her mind, however unwitting and reluctant she felt to recall them. 

"Lady Integral, that's the second time I've heard you sigh. Now come, do tell the truth – it's actually Alucard who's giving you these unnecessary frowns, no?" Salar amiably conversed beside her. Her lake blue eyes trailed lazily down his fine white shirt, the slight open collar revealing the glint of a white gold chain resting across his sculpted collar bones, then wandered down even further and onto his lap where a small white paper bag lay. It was the first time she'd actually notice that he had been carrying the package – it looked like a Tiffany & Co bag, but they usually came in a pale, aquamarine blue, and this was one white, with a silver rope handle. 

What on earth was she doing? Getting into a car with some man she'd seen for five minutes, going to lunch at some restaurant owned by a corporation that her daddy had vilely cursed only weeks ago, and now, she was obsessed by this bag he carried? 

"You think highly of Alucard?" she said to distract herself and to mask her unease. 

"Karasu might have some dealings with him, but I have only been acquainted to his reputation." 

"His very _flattering_ reputation." Integral wryly said. 

They both shared the same smile. "I understand," Salar continued full of passionate charm, "that Alucard is…how to politely put this…is rather fond of debauchery, no? Shedding aside his arrogant Dracula image, he spends most of his moments along the many _recreational _venues towards the very northern tips of Fortune's Park?" 

"Oh that disgusting and filthy man!" Integral flushed hotly, her anger momentarily destroying any wise and cautious reserve she felt for that man. Later, when she recounted this encounter to her uncles, they would tell her that she was carefully manipulated, lured into a false sense of companionship by his deliberate choice of topic that was familiar and safe ground for him to proceed his invasion into her vulnerable mind. 

He gave another amused laugh which made her smile a bit more naturally. "Has he ever bought…other women to the trailer sets and locations?" 

"All the time!" she continued to fume. "And my trailer more often than not is right beside his. Sometimes, when locations are for three or four days, you can hear all the revolting and cheap stuff that he does with his whores." 

And even when they alighted the taxi, having arrived at their destination, and had been graciously seated by some of the best service she had ever encountered, they were still on the detestable topic of Alucard. Only when the menus had been laid in front of her did she realize that she was seated in quaint wooden chair with those slender high back supports. They were on a balcony on the second level, overlooking the people down below through the gaps between the white iron balustrade. The white tablecloth was stiff and starched a pure snowy white with fine white tassels dangling on the edge of the laced border. 

She opened the menu and was almost blinded by the gold embossed letters inside. But a vivid…dragon at the top of the page with a gaping jaw entwined in a pair of crossed swords mesmerized her. 

"That's the symbol of Vallanor." Salar said, his voice light and unaffected. 

"Is that a…dragon?" Integral leaned down to peer more closely at the scales running all along the creature. "It looks nothing like those front cover illustrations on Anne McCaffrey's novels…" 

"It's a serpentine dragon – in the orient style." True enough, the dragon resembled an overgrown serpent, but had four sets of powerful, short legs ending in curved claws. It had no wings or large soft underbelly as was the traditional western depiction of a dragon. 

"The dragon in Chinese mythology is neither good nor bad. They are masters of earth in their own right, a force of nature in themselves. When the dragon ascends the clouds, the heavens will shake and tremble from the sheer sight of its majesty. The Emperor's symbol was also that of a dragon – to symbolize his might and divine right to rule. What do you make of this logo Lady Integral?" 

Far, far away, drowned in the vision painted by his words, Integral watched the skies darken a gloomy grey and saw muffled flashes of lightening, light which could not pierce the thick fog of grey, and the foreboding rumblings of thunder was reminiscent of a giant awakening from a millennia of slumber. And in another ear splitting clash of thunder and lightening, she saw it! A magnificent creature of myth and legend, its polished and brilliant scales twinkling in the dark, one claw gripped onto a jewel, gliding and floating in the air and doing majestic large circles as forks of lightening stabbed precariously nearby. It's eyes of infinite age and wisdom suddenly locked onto hers, and she gasped in fright and broke away. 

Integral managed to stutter some half hearted response about the symbol being very eye catching and hastily ordered lunch. Time passed quickly after that – the food was served, she 'mmmed' in enjoyment and they continued to talk. She was impressed by his vast knowledge – he seemed to have an opinion on any issue that they touched, insightful, innovative. He was a good listener as well, tolerating not only her displeasure with Alucard, but after some probing, she found herself hesitating talking to him about her sometimes uncomfortable and formal relationship with her father. 

"You mean you haven't lived with your father all your life?" he asked with a touch of concern and sympathy. 

"No – he didn't know that I existed until six years ago. He never knew that mother had me because she left him before I was born. They only contacted each other about seven years ago and only under very cold and formal occasions – I just entered high school – and I finally found out that I had a father! And he was the sole owner of the Elysian in anime city! _Elysian!_" 

"Major shock." Salar echoed, nodding his head. 

"I know! So after I finished high school, mum and I moved to Anime City and Daddy set up Hellsing so that I could make a name for myself in this city….instead of just being _Hades' daughter_," she mumbled the last bit disparagingly. "It's…hard to please him, because I just don't know him, you know what I mean? All these years, I know who he is but haven't spoken a word to him until I got here and all. Mum and Dad are still working on repairing their relationship, but I'm a grown woman now – how can I just suddenly see this man as a father?" 

"Of course. The Hellsing series could have waited so that you could spend more time together and get to know each other first before you plunged into such a hectic and brutal life of an actor." She found herself falling for the complete and sensible reasonableness in his voice and felt herself blush again. 

Desert was finished and they settled down to cups of tea and coffee. Salar sipped on his tea and continued to listen to Integral's problems. A frown darkly flashed across his features when his phone rang and he excused himself to take the call, walking some fair distance away. 

He left the parcel he'd been carrying on the table. 

Curiosity led Integral to carefully pry open the sides and peer in. At the bottom was a black velvet box and a cord of gold ribbon that had yet to be tied around it. Looking up to see that Salar was still no where in sight, she dared herself to pick up the box, a jewelry box, and flicked open the cover. 

She froze. The earrings were _beautiful_! Ruby earrings, glittering small stones of ruby and diamond hung on fine chains of white gold and dangled so preciously as she held it up to the midday sun and watched the luminous sparkles dance across the tabletop. Her breath caught in her throat and tears threatened to well up in her eyes. Presumably, those were for her. Hearing Salar's footsteps nearing, she hastily put everything back in place and tried to steer her mind off such wonder. She gave him a tight lipped smile hoping that he wouldn't notice that anything was amiss or that his bag was slightly more to the left from where he had originally put it. He was too busy and even slightly dazed to concern himself with such trivial matters – the gift was for her anyway – and he picked up the bag, quickly checking to see the contents were still in there. 

"I'm sorry Lady Integral, but there is some which absolutely requires my immediate attention. I've paid for the meal already, and I regret that I've had to cut this short." 

"You…have to go now?" she half rose from her seat looking slightly confused. 

Salar shrugged into his black jacket with a look of almost panic on his face. 

"Yes. A friend of mine is in trouble and doesn't even know it. I must go now." He hastily bent down to brush his lips across her cheek, bowed again and was gone before Integral could inquire further. He'd taken the bag with him. He'd taken those earrings away with him! _Weren't they supposed to be for her_?! 

* * *

  
  


**3:30pm Dr Slump's Community Center**

Dr Slump was a short ordinary looking man who was well past his years of youth and too old to keep up with the young ones with all their crazy parties and extravagant lifestyles. The show that made him famous, incidentally named after him, was labelled a 'classic' these days, an old favourite that bought back fond memories of carefree childhood. It was an 'oldie', and he was old. Dr Slump was always too practical and down-to-earth to be deluded by the wonders of science and plastic surgery or be swept away by dreams of legendary fame. He played a dumpy scientist on the show, and that's exactly how he had felt all his life – dumpy – and noting was going to change that. He turned down Toriyama World's offer to do a sequel to Dr Slump featuring a teenage Arale. Sequels were never popular and most people resented having their firmly fixed memories and dreams altered. Arale should remain the naïve but powerful little automaton stuck in preschool whilst Dr Slump would forever continue to pursue his love interest of his life. When his fans had that image forever suspended in their minds, he would only provoke a negative response by adding to and thereby changing it. 

That's why he set up this Community Centre, a humble place for the unfortunate children of Northside to take refuge from the harsh realities of the world. _Their_ world. Northside – a place that seemed to be Hell's foothold on earth; it was everything that a criminal could dream of. Lawlessness was not even a proper word in this place for its opposition – law – just simply did not exist. Wait, scratch that. One law did exist, and it was the ever brutal law of survival of the strongest and smartest. Northside's bone of pity and compassion decayed a long time ago and nothing was sane enough to come in and replace it. 

Except for this small community centre. 

Actually, it was mainly acted as an orphanage run by volunteers, the few kindhearted people in Northside who could afford to be a sympathetic to other lost souls. Then, there was Kurapika who still took some time to visit ever since he was picked up by Director Silva Zoldick to star as one of the main characters in Hunter x Hunter. Today, he bought some braver colleagues with him and a familiar face as well. He was standing in the recreation room, the largest room in the three storey building and felt quite awkward alone with the boy he once knew who seemed so much like a stranger now. 

"Kurei! Haven't seen you around for…has it been two years?" Dr Slump shook a smooth white hand that belonged to an aristocrat who hadn't worked a day in his life. He let his beady eyes thoroughly scan the new Kurei in front of him. The young man who had starred in Flame of Recca as Recca's deranged and crazy older half brother looked like one of those models worshipped by readers of _Cleo_ who had just stepped off the catwalk and decided to pay his shabby, downtrodden community centre a visit. In his immaculate attire, flawless alabaster skin, manicured fingernails and a soldier's straight back, he stuck out like a crimson rose in a cheap, broken china vase. 

"Yeah, almost." Kurei shrugged, still looking around at the faint cracks in the wall, the peeling grey paint, the lazy spinning fan overhead. There was a faint smell of disinfectant in the air emanating strongly from the bathrooms. 

Kurapika was showing his colleagues around the ground floor. Actually, the two girls only came along because they heard that Kurei was going to visit as well. Shizuku kept her hands strictly to herself, mindful of the distasteful yellow stains on the walls and the dirt and grime in the corners of the rooms whilst Neon, wide eyed and slightly distressed, clung tightly onto her arm. 

"Kurapika," Dr Slump frowned as the trio regrouped in the recreation room. "do you think it's really appropriate to bring these two ladies here?" Northside was not a pretty place nor did you treat it or any of its buildings as objects of tourism. 

"We'll be ok Mr Slump." Shizuku smiled pleasantly at him. "We've all taken months of taibo training with Karen. We should be able to look after ourselves." 

Dr Slump didn't look convinced but five Northside kids entered the room. They were in their mid teens, lanky and scrawny and compared to the dress of the actors (who had gone to great pains to tone their stylish habits), the gap in their words was still very glaring. Two of the younger girls, twin sisters Jenna and Jenny shot the Hunter actresses dirty looks of venom and jealousy. Subconscious about the state of their clothes compared to their glamorous counterparts, their rough and dull hair against Neon's lustrous pink or their plain faces and coarse skin as opposed to the actor's flawless faces, a brittle tension mounted in the atmosphere. 

This was _not_ good. 

And the three boys reacted just as badly. They eyed Kurei with the most suspicion and sneered openly at his fine clothes and fashionable haircut. Unfortunately, Kurei either pretended that he couldn't perceive the open hostility or he honestly did not notice and he greeted them like old friends. 

"You talk funny." Jason bluntly observed through the thick bangs of his greasy brown hair. "And what's with those sissy clothes?" 

Kurei looked down at what he was wearing and gave Jason a puzzled look. He gave a helpless shrug. 

"I actually don't control my wardrobe. It's – " 

"I pick out his clothes." A second voice icily interrupted. Everyone gasped and Dr Slump jumped a little at the sudden appearance of a tall and arrogant man with a furiously determined face and cold blue eyes whose gaze alone forced the heat in the small building to plummet by several degrees. Although Anime City was basking in the sun of its summer, he was dressed in a fitted black trench coat that reached halfway down his thighs, its edges lined with metallic blue. He wore black pants tucked into heavy black boots and across his waist, an elegant _jian_, was attached to the sword belt. He cut an uncompromising path straight across the room, knocking aside unfortunate chairs caught in his way and toys scattered on the floor. Jason visibly shirked from the chilling glare that Salar gave him. 

"And I wouldn't be surprised if you hadn't seen Damascus silk before. Not that you could ever afford it in this miserable lifetime anyway. Why don't you do something about that road kill on the top of your head before you comment on other people's clothing?" 

"Mentor…" Kurei's lips trembled and he made a move to grab Salar's arm to pull him back. 

"Excuse me sir, but I'm afraid you're not welcome here. Get out." Dr Slump snarled, angry that his kids had been so ridiculed. 

And Salar directed the full weight of his murderous gaze onto the short man, whose anger and confidence instantly deserted him. Kurei was trying to hold Salar back now, like a young child unable to restrain the pit bull pulling on the leash. When Salar spoke, his voice was filled with so much maliciousness and contempt that an ordinary man should not have been capable of expressing. 

"So this is who you choose to 'hang' around Kurei." He hissed, the colloquial word foreign to his lips. "Idiots and riff raff without a glimmer of intelligence in their eyes; commoners destined to mediocrity and failure. And now this sniveling worm has the nerve to raise his impudent voice against _my _taste and judgement?" 

Shizuku wanted to clap her hands over her ears to block out this terrible sound, this voice belonging to a person who she couldn't recognize as the man who shared their table for lunch three weeks ago. The Salar she had briefly been acquainted with at TGIs that day was a mild and mellow man of few words and a cynical yet charming smile on his lips. His eyes had been self-mocking, but they were playful and casual with none of the horrendous amount of malevolence and malice that now burned so coldly. 

"How can you say that about my friends!" Kurei roared back to everyone's utmost surprise. Given the sheer intimidation that Salar had been able to muster with his voice alone, the ability to instill a fear so gripping that they were rooted to the ground, talking back was the last thing on their minds. But here the brash young man was, screaming and yelling, _hurtling_ abuse at his very own teacher. 

"How dare you do this to me! You can't just dictate my life like that, telling me who I can and who I can't be friends with. YOU'RE JUST JEALOUS MENTOR! JEALOUS BECAUSE YOU NEVER HAD ANY – " 

Salar's blindingly swift blow across his face was so hard that Kurei crashed to the floor, blood already streaming out from his nostrils and the nasty split on his lip. Momentarily stunned, Salar aimed a vicious kick into his gut that drove every molecule of oxygen out of his lungs. Kurei emitted a small mewl of pain and curled up into a tight ball, forcing his lungs to breath again. Salar was beyond care and compassion for the piteous gasping and coughing from his protégé and his cruelty was magnified by the deadly calm of his voice. 

"Never raise your voice at me. Never talk back to me. Those were the first things I taught you Kurei. Now get up. We are to leave this place immediately, if you really treasure the welfare of your so-called friends." 

"Are you threatening me!" Dr Slump drew himself to his full height of five feet three inches and called upon every fiber of courage to do so. 

"No." Salar's eyes never left the struggling form of his protégé trying to stand on his feet unaided. "But I have a lot of enemies in Northside. I shot down three snipers and dodged several throwing knives and cut down a bolt from a crossbow just to get here. The longer I stay, the more people my enemies will call to surround this building. They might just storm this place just for a chance to get at me, so I want to leave. Now." 

"They are _your_ enemies _mentor_." Kurei spat out the last word out along with a mouthful of blood and saliva. The glare he gave Salar was vicious. "I asked you to come so I could share my old friends with you, not to have you ridicule them, to treat them like they're scum and gutter trash. _I used to be one of them – are you going to mock me too?"_

His mentor would not meet his gaze. Rather, he strode purposefully over to the other side of the recreation room and cautiously peered out the window from the side through narrowed eyes. He scanned the streets below, paying extra attention to the shadows dancing in the alleys and growled softly. 

"My enemies are your enemies Ku." He said softly. "You were a marked man the moment you so foolishly decided to step back in here." From his pockets, Salar withdrew a pair of black, fingerless gloves and he hurriedly fitted them on. 

"Like you said Ku, you _used_ to be one of them but not anymore. You should never have come – you belong to _me_ now." Salar sighed and unclasped the sword from his belt and held it in his hand, feeling little comfort from the weight of the weapon. 

"You and your Hunter friends have to leave – NOW."   


* * *

  


**5:00pm, Andelain Towers, Level 6, Flat C**

Illumi clawed at the back of his head and pressed his forehead firmly on to the flat of his table top. The loud hoots and roars of laughter outside were mocking him. He knew it. They had to be talking about him. Just because Hisoka had to be companionable didn't mean that the guests he invited over had to be. Things had rapidly gone downhill ever since he unexpectedly moved in straight away after signing the lease. 

Hisoka had two large suitcases and a box of other assorted junk that he lugged up to the apartment the moment Nina left. He had an insolent grin on his face as he dragged the box into his designated bedroom and was on the phone to his friends all night informing them of his new address. They ate dinner separately – or rather Hisoka ate dinner because Illumi skipped the last meal. He was engrossed in his work, which seemed to become the first thing he spoke about whenever people asked (if at all) 'how was your day?'. 

_I guess all this work is paying off_, he mused as he sharpened his coloured pencils and pedantically made sure none of the shavings remained on his table or dropped to the floor. Dougy Cameron's old network was impressive to say the least. His sister was Botan from Reikai Motion Pictures. THE Botan! The one everyone described as the "cute blue-haired goddess of death" herself. The cast in Yu Yu Hakusho were close given that the show took a fair number of years to make. He would definitely look forward to mingling with the people from RMP – that's only if Menchi and a few other actors hadn't got around to telling them about his little…_problem_. 

**_ I'm not a problem Illumi >>_ **the small voice murmured somewhere in the back of his head. It was no longer a loud and all-conquering presence in his mind, stirring its sticky fingers in places where it shouldn't touch. 

**_ I'm supposed to be a solution to all your problems >>_**

Illumi chuckled softly as he drew the vague outline of a well endowed woman on a fresh piece of paper. 

_I believe you only cause me more problems than you help to fix them._

**_ Who do you think came up with the idea of Reverie then? >>_**

Illumi wondered if he heard a touch of weariness and fatigue and injured dignity in that faint voice. 

_I'll give you credit for the plan. But _I've_ been implementing it MY way, and it's going very successfully I might add._

**_ For god sakes! How long can you delude yourself for?!>>_ his madness retorted. _ They're all sitting outside laughing at you. You go to the studio and none of them talk to you. Hisoka gives you his patented look-guaranteed-to-ostracize and no one sticks up for you. I think you are quite alone.>>_**

He dabbed long angry lines of red along her thighs, coiling them like large snakes at her feet. 

**_ My poor, little, confused Illumi. Look at yourself! You think you can survive in this place on your own without my help? Please, stop taking the medicine…>>_**

_So you don't have to die? _He snapped back, trying to steady his shaking hand so that he could squeeze out a perfect line of glue. 

**_ So _neither_ of us have to die. The medication is killing you too Illumi, and you know it. How long has it been since you've had a proper meal? My poor thing, my gentle, innocent and naïve soul – you are suffering pain that you shouldn't have to experience. That's why I am here remember? I'll gladly suffer the blows and hurts for you, you know that. You are analogous to the fluffy white lamb amongst a pack of ravenous wolves. Please – let them hurt me instead – I can handle it. >>_**

**_ARGH! Enough with your false sympathies! You care about no one but yourself. Get out of my head! If it wasn't for you, none of them would hate me!_**

**_ That's lie number two today. Really Illu, cute, precious little Illu – do you think that people like Menchi or Machi would not hate you if I didn't attempt to kill their love interest? They'd hate you all the same – because you would have been the new kid who took away all his attention. Right now, they're having no qualms about kicking you when you're down and what are you doing about your predicament? Nothing – because you are capable of nothing whereas – >>_**

Illumi furiously shook the silver glitter over the pale glimmering line of glue on the page before it dried off. He carefully brushed away the rest of the glitter that didn't stick on to another piece of paper and carefully transferred it back into the bottle. The silver on red effect wasn't as…rich and striking as he intended. Perhaps he should have used the gold glitter instead, or a deeper shade of red? 

**_ Please…Illu…please? Stop taking those pills…>>_**

_Promise you'll butt out of my business then? The silver lining didn't look too bad after all._

**_………not if they keep hurting you Illu. I can't promise you that – I'm your solution…… remember? >>_**   
  


Illumi sobbed with frustration as another wave of laughter broke against the bedroom door that tried to block out the sounds from the living room. Menchi's high pitched laughter stung his ears and the low rumbles of Hisoka's chuckles cut so deeply at his vulnerability. He swallowed the lump in his throat and flung himself on to the bed beside the table, worming his head beneath his fluffy pillows. 

He must have fallen asleep because a he was awoken by a gentle rubbing on the back. 

"Illu – are you ok?" 

Hisoka? 

"Yes?" he managed to mumble in response, hands immediately flying to fix his hair that always became unruly after he slept. 

"Your eyes are red…oh sweetie, have you been crying?" the magician gently sat down beside him on the bed and tenderly wreathed his arms around him, drawing him into his warm and strong embrace. 

_Sweetie?! WTF?! Surely this wasn't Hisoka's idea of being 'companionable'?!_

The hand went to stroke his hair to smooth down all the ruffles and unevenness and pulled him even tighter into that strong, sculpted chest rising and falling with all the unfailing comfort in the world. He was drowning in security, so addictive and sweet. He shifted in his embrace allowing him to tilt his head slightly up and gaze into Hisoka's twinkling golden eyes. Hisoka's smile was pleasant and inviting and it widened as his head gradually leaned closer and closer. 

"Illu…" he whispered, his wet lips so close, ever so close to his own. Closer…closer…closer…he could feel the moist heat Hisoka's breath envelop his own…   
__

_BRIIIIING BRIIIIIING BRIIIIING!!!!_   


The piercing shriek of the alarm clock startled away all the illusions leaving its dreamer drenched in cold sweat and panting, ebony eyes widened impossibly from the ordeal. Must…think…about…something else…._or I'll go insane!_

Illumi switched off the alarm checked the time – five thirty. Time to get dressed and meet Dougy for another training session. Better get changed and cover those bruises. He staggered out of bed and made for the mirror in the bathroom. He studied his reflection and dourly noted that the black eye was still taking its sweet time in fading. The bruise around the side of his mouth was still rather dark but much of his face was pale again. If only the same thing could be said about his back though. He still had to sleep on his side at night; when he had time to sleep that is. 

Another uproar of laughter. He could distinctly hear his name being called in association with some more other unpleasant accusation, namely depraved sexual acts involving the owner of Andelian Towers – damn he didn't realize how much it was hurting. He quickly got changed, leaving his work and materials scattered messily on the table and was more intent on finding that blasted pill bottle. 

He swung aside his bedroom door with a loud bang to announce his entrance and didn't bother to look at the still and silent actors on _his_ couch eating _his_ food. He reached for a glass from the cupboards and slammed it down on the bench whilst he filled half of it up with luke warm water from the kettle. The snide whisperings rose up again and gradually became soft murmurs and gentle giggles. 

Illumi swallowed the tablets along with the sigh. _Ignore them_ he tried to tell himself, but he couldn't help sneaking glances at the happy lot invited for Hisoka's couch warming party. If only he didn't have so much work to do, he might have hesitantly asked Hisoka if he could join them all. He would have baked a cake as well and ordered pizza or something. Good things usually didn't come his way though, and certainly not luck. Urgh! Enough with those sly looks in his direction already. He just wanted to shout to them "yes, I understand you don't like me, but do you have to carry on about it like you were twelve?!". He decided against it – it would just make them hate him more. 

He screwed the cap back onto the bottle tightly and slipped it into his jacket pocket along with his bundle of house keys. The mobile phone was in his other pocket, and the other things he needed were in his shoulder bag. Time to get a move on then. 

"Aniki, where are you going?" Killua looked up with a fistful of chips in hand. 

Illumi gave him a small smile. "I've got to meet someone – work." 

"As always." Killua added with a smirk. 

His 'brother' nodded and without another word left the apartment. 

"Hey Killua, I don't think he looked too happy. Do you think he heard?" Gon worriedly muttered beside him. 

Menchi leaned a friendly elbow on Hisoka's shoulder and smiled widely, a can of beer in her hand. "What does it matter anyway? So long as it isn't Hisoka who's gossiping about his landlord, Illumi can't do anything to us." 

Hanzo frowned at her haughty tone. "Don't be like that Menchi. The guy's got feelings too you know." 

The pink haired actress snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and his feelings aren't worth scrap." 

"But aren't you afraid Menchi? His mother seems to be on good terms with the Director." Paku winked at Killua who immediately flushed with embarrassment. 

"The gossip columnists are liars!" he said defensively. "Dad and _kaa-san_ were just role playing their parts outside work like I do with my new brothers." 

"Riiight. That'd also explain the way they were _looking lovingly into each others eyes whilst drinking in the splendid view from the 250th floor of Elysian's restaurant_?" Paku quoted the section of column by heart. The news didn't make front page, but had caused considerable stir amongst the actors at Hunter Works. The Director seemed amused by the picture that the journalist had managed to capture his picture that evening and bravely shrugged off the ensuing gossip. 

"But in all seriousness" Hanzo continued "the Director was going to crack onto Hisoka about his little fight with Illumi at the park before my splendid picture deprived him of words. I don't think we should push this vendetta even further." 

"I second that." Kuroro raised his can of beer and took a large gulp. "We've almost finished anyway. Another month or two, and after some computer editing by the techs, Hunter x Hunter will be aired on tv. Why don't we just finish the last two months with some good memories?" 

Kuroro was going to further elaborate on the reasons but the door swung open and a number of people burst in, their faces white as a ghost and trembling from head to toe from some unknown fear. 

"Neon-chan!" Menchi squeaked and made an immediate dash to her kid sister's side, immediately helping her to a seat. 

"Kurapika!" she turned to the blonde haired boy and gave him her best intimidating glare "what happened?!" 

Shizuku had to take over the explaining when Kurapika could do nothing but stutter clumps of incoherence. 

"As you know Menchi – we accompanied Kurapika to the community centre in Northside to meet some of the kids there. But as they all say," her throat felt so dry and voice harsh and coarse that she wondered if the people could understand what she was saying. "Northside isn't a very pleasant place. Especially since Salar got involved." 

"Salar?" Kuroro's eyes lit up with alarm. "Most of Northside have a grudge against him! Rumor has it that whoever takes him out will be crowned the King of Northside. Why on earth did he go in there?!" 

"Kurei invited his mentor." Kurapika nodded his thanks to Gon for the glass of water. "Guess he wanted to show his mentor who he used to hang around. So Salar came to Dr Slump's Community Centre and told us to get out of there before it was too late. It was almost too late…" 

"We made a dash out of the building from the back door but they were ready for us. We were surrounded – all around and up above." 

"_So how on earth did you escape?!"_ Menchi yelled at Kurapika, throttling him for taking her sister into such dangerous a dangerous place in the first place and didn't try harder to persuade her not to go. 

"Salar…he was stopping bullets with his sword. I don't know how he did it…but his gloves…or something….was giving off this really, really bright light. He was…" 

"like a god." Neon whispered, holding tightly onto her sister as she recalled the events. "He was shining so brightly amongst us with a sword in one hand and the scabbard in the other. He kept us running and didn't let us stop until we all got back here." She hiccuped and reached for a glass of water. 

"Where's he now?" Hisoka asked. 

"Upstairs in his own penthouse." Shizuku pulled at her collar as if it was difficult to breathe. "I think he's injured though. He could barely walk by the time we made it to Andelain Towers. He was leaning heavily on Kurei and his face was paler than a dead corpse." 

"Do you think one of us should go upstairs and make sure he's ok?" 

"No, don't." Kuroro immediately spoke up. "Salar's a private person. Leave him – you can write your thank you card another day. Now, get over on the couch, give yourselves a nice hot cup of chocolate with two spoons of sugar to replace the energy you burned up, and tell me _every single detail_. It's not everyday that an actor steps into Northside and emerges unscathed. Talk to me." 

* * *

**Authors Note:**

I'm going away on holiday for about a month it seems. So that means I won't have computer access or internet access to upload the next chapter. It means that Chapter 15 might not come out until the first week of August. I'm sorry about this guys.In the meantime, feel _extremely_ free to make comments and diplomatic constructive criticisms about this work. Please Review. I know you're reading this. 


	15. Chapter 15: A little more about ourselve

**H U N T E R W O R K S**   
By Yomi****

**CHAPTER 15**

**A little more about ourselves** ****

* * *

**Sunday, 6:30pm Endless Parade**

The troubling contents of the dream wouldn't let his mind concentrate on matters of importance. Even as he parked his car outside a nondescript unit was his heart still racing. It was not often that a man would, in his sleep, envision himself in the arms of another man, their lips almost touching, their hot breath teasing and alluring. With immeasurable anger in his eyes, he glared at his own reflection in the rear view mirror. 

_Get out of my head you asshole!_

He heard a faint laugh in the background. A voice he knew too well. 

**_I can get you anything that you want my dear, sweet Illumi…..you just give me a call, and I can make all your dreams come true_**. It whispered before dying completely to Illumi's relief. He flung the seatbelt out of the way, nudged the car door open and energetically slammed it shut, disturbed by the last words of his madness. 

_Why would I want _those_ dreams to come true anyway?_ He chanted to himself whilst he unpacked his tools and equipment from the trunk of his car. He juggled the items so that they wouldn't fall to the ground and made his way up the small path through the front yard which had an array of pot plants painstakingly lined on either side and politely knocked on the door. 

"Hey Dougy, it's me." He called out, bringing up his knee to steady the large box he grappled with in his arms. The door silently swung open and Illumi strode in before the mountain of things he'd bought over tumbled and all over the front step of the unit. 

The door closed shut behind him with a small click and for a moment, Illumi had to adjust his eyes to the dimness of the hallway. 

"Dougy," he said with a certain amount of friendly reproach, a tone he'd often heard his mother use when she pointed out to Karuto that her room needed tidying up. It was amazing how perfect his imitation of his mother could be when he really put his mind to it, "what have I told you about living in the dark? It's a bad habit, now switch on the lights and lets get your hair done before we have dinner." 

"You mean before _I_ have dinner." The pale, blue haired man muttered as he drifted off further down the hallway to switch on the lights and comply with Illumi's wishes. "You never consume food in front of me like you're a vampire or something. And I thought I was a small eater." 

"And the curtains too," Illumi ignored his last comment and hopped into the living room, dunking his stuff onto the carpeted floor. "why do you always shut your curtains anyway? You _want_ agents to be able to take a few snap shots of you in your house. Add to the secrecy and vagueness of it all. And when people only have snatches of rumors to work with…?" 

"They always want to have more." Dougy monotonously intoned, then grunted as he shambled into the living room and tugged his heavy velvet curtains open. The orange glow of dusk filtered through, hitting the leather sofa, the small low, rectangular coffee table and twelve inch television set. Doug squinted his eyes to adjust to the sudden bright light but was mildly fascinated by the way the dust gracefully floated in the air around him. Again, Illumi ignored his slightly rebellious attitude and clapped his hands in delight. 

"Good, good. We're getting the concept. Now, this!" he exclaimed with childish joy and a flourish when the top of the box was carelessly thrown aside "is the first prototypes of this autumn's fashion! Finished them last night and got a spare stack at home. _This_ Dougy, this is what's going to get us famous!" 

"For all the right reasons of course." Dougy added for the record, but his curiosity no longer able to be restrained now overcame him. He cautiously approached the box in the middle of his living room and felt his knees go weak at the colours upon colours, layer upon layer of clothes inside the box. All were for him. All of which would make him a celebrity again. But unlike three weeks ago, when he would have felt nothing but selfish ecstatic joy at the prospects of revitalized fame, he looked at the tired lines on Illumi's face, the slightly sagging eye bags he tried to conceal under the make up and noticed how Illumi's hair had lost some of its amazing lustrous shine and could only feel heart burning guilt. 

Illumi stopped in the middle of unpacking and pressed his lips together. 

"What's the matter Doug? These clothes not to your taste?" 

"Did you stay up all night to get this done for me?" 

"But of course!" the black haired man proudly declared. "It took me two weeks of late nights, but it's damn worth well worth it because this – " 

"You've lost weight since I last saw you, and that was only two days ago." Doug interrupted, a glum expression on his face. He sat down on his sofa, shoulders drooping wearily and ran a tired hand through his short hair. He looked at his partner with a genuine gleam in his blue eyes. 

"Come on Illumi – I only dragged you out of the gutter that night. I don't expect you to do this much for me. I feel bad seeing you working yourself to unhealthiness. Fame, fortune – I can't really be expected to enjoy it if I had to squeeze every drop of life out of you to get it." 

Illumi held Dougy's gaze for a long time, trying to ascertain whether this was just some cheap device to gain some sort of trust and attention. He couldn't find any ill will in the man seated opposite him and so gave a small sigh. 

"I'm doing this for myself too, as you well know." He looked down disinterestedly at the carpet. 

"No, I actually don't know. Illumi, just how bad can your relations at Hunter Works be for you to have to labour on this Reverie for eighteen hours a day? Then you gotta do half of your mum's job, and I hear you're still trying to set up your own dolls store as well. Do you get _any_ sleep these days?" 

"Just brief naps, here and there. And I don't like sleep anyway. Dreams always trying to interfere with reality." Illumi reached out for the box again to unpack another set of clothes, but Doug stopped him, pulling him down onto the couch with him. 

"It can't be that bad," He stressed again "especially since you and Hisoka are crazy about each other. As much as I want people to prostrate before me and offer to shine my shoes and everything, I've got a conscience. And right now, it's telling me that it'll plague me with guilt for the rest of my life if I continue to let you live under the misguided assumption that the Hunter actors hate your guts. Listen – " 

"I do know exactly how they feel about me." Illumi smiled a little, thinking back to the muffled laughs he heard in his room whilst Hisoka and his friends lounged in the living room having their couch warming party. "But…thanks for caring I guess. You didn't have to." 

"What?" Dougy drew himself up indignantly with a coldness in his voice. "Am I not qualified to be your friend too and care? Is that it Illumi? We're just to become tools for each other's convenience?" 

"No no!" Illumi frantically shook his head. He bit his lip in thought, and with each thought his mood became more despondent. When he spoke again, it seemed as though he was talking more to himself than to Dougy Cameron. 

"I guess…well…I guess not many people have cared about me before, so I usually don't expect or require it of people. Not even my own mum sometimes. The only friend I had through high school was this little girl, quiet and timid, shy as a mouse. She would cry over anything – low marks, spilt juice, dirtied uniform. And even then, she had too many of her own problems to ever care about me. You might have heard of Rogina – she's at Galaxy Institute now." He broke off and sniffed a bit. "And then university wasn't so good for me either. Most of my spare time was spent helping mum with Fantasia and looking after my sister. She was born not long before I went to uni you see, so with mum busy all the time, I had to stay home often to take care of her. 

"Anime city was supposed to be my first real start. Mum managed to pull some strings and introduce this supposedly well connected and popular guy to me and show me around town. According to her brilliant and faultless plans, I was supposed to become his good friend, and in turn become good friends with all of his good friends." 

Doug saw the sad smile on Illumi's lips and tried to lighten the atmosphere with a light laugh. "And your mum picked Hisoka? Well yes, I read the newspaper that caught all your yummy friendliness – and they even thought it was worthy of being front page material too!" 

Illumi tried to smile a bit more brightly too, but it took too much effort and the end product would have looked more like a twisted mask of pain rather than a smile, so he settled for giving another sigh and reached to unpack more clothes to distract himself from the tide of suffocating emotions. 

"Yeah. Hisoka was my first friend in…a long time, perhaps ever. But as you well know, that lasted less than forty eight hours. It….was good whilst it lasted." He stopped at stared at the blank tv screen. "Have you ever….you know….felt instantly connected to another person before?" 

"Can't say that I have." 

"Yeah – it probably doesn't happen to _normal_ people. I'm just probably….too desperate to have a friend I guess. I shouldn't have accepted him immediately, forty eight hours Illumi, what were you thinking? You make someone your best friend after knowing him for less than forty eight hours. Yeah, no wonder why you're hurting right now." 

"Illumi, just listen to me for a second ok!" Dougy grabbed a scrap book from the coffee table, one that was filled from page one to the end with newspaper clippings. He furiously flipped through the pages until he found the right one and pushed the desired page under Illumi's nose. 

"Just look at that for god sakes!" it was the blasted _Insider_ from almost a month ago, littered with pictures of the pair on their first day together – at Gladis' Café having morning tea, kicking water at the beach, dining at a popular wharf for lunch, spending a lazy afternoon at the park – leaning against a tree trunk, shoulder to shoulder. It seemed like such a wonderful, long eternity ago. 

"You guys were so _natural_. Damn I've been flipping through this guck long enough to see genuine friendship and fondness for each other ok? Illumi, Hisoka is _crazy about you_ – he's got it all written over his face in these pictures. Why is making up to him so hard? He'd cave in in two minutes flat unless…OH!" 

With his years of experience in the acting industry and his extensive grasp of gossip and politics, Dougy shrewdly studied the images that Illumi was vacantly studying and felt a growl rise in his throat. He was reminded of his own tragic downfall at Serenity Pictures, ousted out by the Prince of Slime because he had gotten fat on confidence and attention and grew careless. The memories alone begun to twist his calm and apathetic disposition that he had fostered over the years of self imposed exile and was recently struggling to shake off. 

"Divide and Conquer." 

"I beg your pardon?" Illumi snapped the scrap book shut and looked at him quizzically. Dougy shook himself out of his reminiscence and felt the excitement stinging his veins. Eyes ablaze with determination, he breathed in slow and deeply to gather his thoughts. 

"There's interference! Someone or some people are deliberately trying to sideline you and make sure that Hisoka continues to hate you. I've seen it oh-so-clearly before. It's the despicable, dirty, low-handed tactics of small and petty people, jealous of what you have that they don't have. They think that if they can get you out of Hisoka's head, then they might have a chance to conquer him. The stupid fool – he doesn't even know someone's pulling his strings!" 

"No Doug, you don't understand. Somehow, I just have the ability to turn someone into my mortal enemy in a devastatingly short amount of time, much to the horror of my mum. Ahh, her brilliant plans out the window." 

"That's where you're wrong Illumi." Dougy moved forward to help unpack. "Hisoka just likes you too much that he's afraid, plus he's got people dripping poison down his ear. And I only say this because I've seen the newspapers, plus I've known him for some time." He wrinkled his nose. "And I don't know whether I should be considered fortunate or unfortunate to know him. He's such a slob." 

How glad he was when Illumi gave a short lived, yet genuinely amused, laugh. So he finally found some safe ground to start on at last. Hisoka's weaknesses – his character flaws often, and should, make a good subject of discussion. 

"You know how you used to do crazy things when you're young. Well, back in those days, the degree of drunkenness we reach could put today's young teenagers to shame. We were psychos back then – and often, I couldn't go back to my proper and decent home after a night's partying. So Legato and I crashed in at Hisoka's place. And let me tell you, I think I would have been better off sleeping on the park benches instead. 

"One night, I broke his favourite cd when I was too passed out to even concern myself with whatever kind of reality I was treading on. He found out the next day; got angry of course, but forgot about it after two hours. For all his flaunted speeches on code duello and an actor's injured pride, Hisoka can't really hold a grudge." 

"It doesn't matter. Nothing matters – except this. Thanks for trying though Dougy….but I know what I know. Perhaps you are acquainted with a different Hisoka, but like I said, that doesn't matter. My family's happiness doesn't depend on me getting along with Hisoka and my goal of setting up a doll store certainly doesn't require his connections. Sometimes, we just can't have everything we want in life. Enough talk – get me coat hangers and when we're done with the unpacking, I'll fix your hair, then why don't you try _this_ jacket on with _these_ pants?" 

Dougy pushed aside the clothes. They weren't important now – nothing but Illumi's plight was of greater concern to him now, if only because Dougy Cameron saw in him the shadow of his former self, headed on a collision course with destruction but didn't know it until it hit him. History was trying to repeat it himself – and he was damned if he would let it happen again. He was going to make a come back – and this come back included a fight back against the self same forces that pulled him down years ago. 

"It matters Illumi. You're trying so hard to fit into Anime City and trying to establish connections with everything on two legs. If you're determined to succeed, then impart some of this determination against those people who would seek to divide you and Hisoka. Didn't you know that the sweetest thing in the world is…." 

The smile, for the briefest of moments, there was such cruelty and gluttonous triumph in that smile that made Dougy's blood turn cold. But it was gone as soon as he noticed, and he was left with the Illumi he had come to know over the past few weeks – a tad bit shy, soft spoken but incredibly determined to be strong and succeed. 

"Revenge." Illumi chuckled and presented the blue haired man with the clothes again.   


* * *

  


**Monday**

Machi wondered what she would do this week; a week which she considered to be full of tedium and bore. She slouched on the couch at home and stared at the plastic couple on a day time soapie. Her hand crawled along the couch to reach for the tv remote and instantly began to flick through the channels. 

"For gods sake Machi, it's only ten o'clock and you're channel surfing already?!" Legato exclaimed. He had just exited the bathroom with nothing but a flimsy towel wrapped around his waist for some modesty. Had she been one of his obnoxious screaming fan girls, the wet, dark turquoise hair plastered on either side of his face, his sculptured body and lithe frame would have sent her swooning and perhaps even faint. But as his sister, she merely trained a golden glare in his direction and continued her inane past time. 

"Gimme that." Legato leaned over from behind her and snatched the remote out of her hand. He switched the tv off with a sneer and sat on the couch beside his sister. She growled softly and shuffled over beside his broad frame, the frown still on her pretty face. 

"So," her brother began "why are we moping around at home in broad daylight?" 

"They've got locations this week. I'm not involved." 

"Ahh," her brother let out an understanding sigh and shifted his weight a bit. "so Hisoka's not around and you're all deflated." He sniffed a bit as he continued to take in her sour expression. "not to mention ill tempered and moody." 

"I am not ill tempered and moody!" she retorted immediately. Legato took one look at her clenched fists and raised an eyebrow. 

"Right," he drawled. "then I suppose it's also got nothing to do with the fact that Menchi will be spending a-plenty of time with Hisoka during this week then." 

"NO! THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT! I'M JUST BORED!" Machi yelled at the top of her voice at her brother's insistence on a frustrating topic that she had tried hard and successfully managed to block from her mind. She picked up the cushion closest at hand and threw it at him with all her strength behind it. He deftly caught it in the large palm of his hand and snarled, wrenching it from her grasp. 

"Knock it off sis. I can smell your agitation every time you come home from those social gatherings. Someone's stepped on your tail. Someone's tried to imitate your hairstyle. Someone's overshadowed you. Someone's talked over you. And that someone is always just one person, isn't it?" 

"Legato. Trust me, I'M. JUST. BORED. And you're making me highly irritated. Can we leave it at that?" 

Her brother ran a hand through his dripping hair. "So sis…feel like going bowling?" 

There was a short silence. 

"Not in the mood." She was finally able to mutter. She won back the tv remote and switched the machine back on, the couple now deep in the throes of passion. Machi grimaced and hurriedly tried to change the channel before her brother physically shoved her to one side, pressed the off button and took out the batteries in the remote. One sharp glare from his twinkling yellow eyes halted her struggles. 

"Cut it out." He snapped. "It's time to set this straight once and for all ok? I'm your big brother, and I got connections." 

"I don't want to hear this, _brother_." 

"Well tough – because if you're not going to here it now, you're never _ever_ going to get help from me again, you got that?" 

Machi visibly shirked back from the look of anger in Legato's usually calm disposition and the barely restrained violence in his voice. 

"Choose _sister_. What will it be – you suffering silently in the background, giving everyone cold and icy looks and never being able to say what you feel; or you swallow some of that damn pride and let your brother work some of his amazing magic to get you what you want?" 

"What do you know about what I want?" she refused to let herself by fazed by the penetrating eyes of her brother and held her chin slightly higher. 

Legato gave a short laugh. "Oh, only the simple fact that you're my sister, and I've watched you grow up with your eyes forever glued to one of my best friends. That, and the most damning piece of evidence came to light the other day." 

"What damning piece of evidence?" she said through clenched teeth. 

"You know," Legato evasively began, "you were just having lunch a few weeks ago, sitting with one of the most desirable, good looking, strongest chick magnet that Anime City hasn't seen for a decade and reports are, you didn't even bat an eyelash at him." 

Machi madly racked her brains, trying to pin point the particular lunch that her brother was referring to. Noticing her hopeless confusion, Legato sighed. 

"Salar's boy – Kurei! Met him the other day on the streets running away from a pack of screaming girls. I even recognized some of my most devoted fans in the throng." He narrowed his eyes in displeasure but didn't pursue that particular negative emotion. "The fact is, any female who doesn't have any screws in her head loose can't resist him. They want to throw themselves at him and have a piece of him. According to Kuroro however, you remained quite steadfast, not to mention slightly disapproving at the way the other girls on your table were reacting. Now, how can we explain that little phenomenon, dear sis?" 

"You can't explain it. I just don't fall over every single pretty boy that crosses my path, ok?" 

"No Machi – Kurei isn't just _any_ pretty boy. He's been trained by Salar. _I've_ been trained by Salar. If it weren't for him, how do you think I got my part in Trigun? How do you think I've got such a massive following, shouting Legato-sama! Take me! I'm yours! every time I so much as put my foot on the streets?" 

Machi blinked. "_You've_ been trained by Salar? Why wasn't I ever aware of this?" 

"It was some time ago." Legato shuddered at the memory and ran played with one of the fraying edges of his towel. "And it wasn't for long. He trained me for about six months and I had to get away from him otherwise I'd either go insane or kill myself. He was strict and mean, brutal, ruthless…..and so damn cold. But it was worth it – he taught me everything – how to walk the walk, talk the talk, establish a persona of confidence and charm, exhibit the type of arrogance that attracts girls like bees to honey. That man is the devil – he could have made himself the most well loved man in Anime City but chose not to do it. Now, he's passing on all his gifts to Kurei who's switching his bewitching smiles and pretty manners on just to see how people will collapse at his feet. If Salar is the most dangerous man in Anime City right now, his protégé is coming a close second behind him. And you didn't even spare him a second glance. Now isn't that quite an achievement, sis?" 

Pounded by so much new information and a welling of a dozen questions on all sorts of topics, Machi hugged herself tightly and tried to discern just one steady trail of thought. 

"So Kurei's charms don't work on me," Machi began, deciding to shift the topic of Legato's shady past and dealings with Salar aside for the moment, "but that doesn't explain how you might know what I want." 

"Of course sis. I know Kurei's tricks and charms. I attract every person of the opposite sex by my looks alone – but that's it. The girls can only drool about my _image_, and perhaps say just how cool the Legato in Trigun is, but they don't love _me_ Machi. Since you've got your heart set on someone else, of course you're not going to give my appearance, or Kurei's for that matter, any second thought. You understand?" 

When Machi refused to speak, Legato sighed and continued. "Don't try to deny it Machi. You didn't fling yourself at Kurei or beg his hand in marriage, and that pretty much shows that your heart is currently being occupied by someone else. And who _else_ could it be? Just say the word sis – tell me you want Hisoka, and I swear I won't laugh at you, though I might question you a bit, since Hisoka is _the_ biggest slob I've ever seen in my entire life. Are you sure you wanna hook up with someone like him?" 

"Two people are in the way." Machi curtly responded, still unable to meet her brother's gaze. She felt Legato's big hand on her small shoulder. When she turned to look at him, there was a reassuring smile on his confident face and a real sympathetic desire to help her. 

"Your brother is Legato Bluesummers. And he always gets what he wants. Now – who is the unlucky competition?" 

"I don't want you to beat anyone up!" she said shrilly and backed away from his touch. Legato breathed out in irritation. 

"No, I don't mean to beat them up. But we need to know who our enemies are so that we may better deal with them. Say it Machi – the first step to winning a man's heart is to eliminate competition. And to eliminate competition, you need strategies and tactics. Lets start with names." 

"Menchi." Machi said, trying hard not to feel ashamed by the fact that she had to turn to her semi-naked brother for help. 

"And…" he prompted. 

"….Illumi." 

Legato almost missed the whisper. His eyes widened, filled with incredulity. 

"A man?! The guy Hisoka's now _living_ with? Sis….are you sure?" 

"YES! He's the most dangerous of the two. Hisoka's never even spared Menchi any affections, so it's all very much one-sided on her part. Still, she's always cutting in and trying to impress him, thus taking up any opportunity that I might have with him. But with Illumi…." She trailed off. 

"Yes? What about Illumi?" 

Machi bit her lip and clenched her eyes shut in shame. But she had to say it – it was too late to turn back. She'd either have Legato's help, or she would never even get Hisoka to look at her as anything else but a co-worker. 

"Hisoka's…got feelings for him. There's real chemistry between them. I saw it on the first day – the way he became so concerned when Illumi drank a cocktail that had been tampered with. And the photos?" her voice was now tinged by hysteria. "You remember the pictures in _The Insider?_ Legato….they looked like a _real_ couple, and they didn't even realize it themselves! How am I supposed to compete with him?" 

"Uh-uh Machi, rule number one is to never take no for an answer and admit defeat. This business requires thick skin." Legato thought hard on the problem, rubbing his jaw gingerly as plans blossomed in his mind. 

"First, we knock off Menchi. She'll be a pushover since she doesn't have a marvelous brother like me to help her out. I can create an opportunity for you to be with Hisoka, just you two alone with no one else to bother you. _That_ will certainly allow you to have his undivided attention." 

Machi let out a trembling breath but relief and a spark of hope was starting to make her head feel light and dizzy. Her brother was right of course – you couldn't wait for opportunities to come when you wanted something so very badly. You had to _make_ the opportunities. 

"Phase two of the operation is to Divide and Conquer." He grinned in relish. "You've got to make sure you turn Illumi and Hisoka against each other so that Hisoka's vulnerable to be taken over, by you specifically. Now, phase two doesn't necessarily have to be a solo act. You can fan the negative feelings that actors at Hunter Works might already have for Illumi. But I'm guessing that Menchi would be actively pursuing this strategy right now, right?" 

Machi thought back to yesterday afternoon, at Hisoka's couch warming party. There, Menchi, under the thin pretense of being rowdy and unchecked due to a can or two of beer, was splurging a bout of mockery with Illumi as the butt of all jokes. She gave her brother a firm nod. 

"Excellent." Legato's grin broadened. "In that case, since Phase Two is developing so nicely for you, why don't you just sit back, let Menchi do her vicious magic, and I get you your chance to be alone with Hisoka for several evenings?" 

"Several evenings only?" she exclaimed in an uncontrolled outburst. It was too late when she clamped a hand over her mouth. 

"Oh come on Machi! Surely you can knock him into bed after two nights together! Several evenings is like god's gift!" 

"I don't need to get laid, brother! I want a decent relationship." 

Legato twiddled his thumbs a bit. "Ok then – then get started on your decent relationship with the few evenings I give you. If you can't even get a spark of romance going by then, I see you're going to need every bit of help the Ex Club can give you." 

Her eyes boggled at her brother in sheer horror. "Don't you dare drag the entire Ex Club into this!" her raised voice nearly reached a shout. "It's embarrassing enough as it is that I have to turn to my brother, who is currently dressed in nothing but a _loincloth_, to get the guy I want. I don't want a whole _community_ to know my problems!" 

"All right, all right!" Legato held up his hands defensively. When he thought Machi was calm enough, he continued to proceed. "There, lets get started with this plan of mine. I have two tickets – tickets for the annual Discovery concert held at the one hundred and fiftieth level of Elysian." 

"Classical music? Why one earth do you have tickets for those?" 

Legato waved his hand as if that particular little issue wasn't important. "The most important point is that all the tickets have been sold out. Which means that even if Menchi gets notice of what we're planning, there's nothing she can do now to stop it. You realize just how high class these concerts are? There's bound to be at least a hundred cameraman on the red carpet that night – and if they see you arm-in-arm with Hisoka, that's a bloody good start." 

"Just _how _are you going to persuade him to come with me?" 

Legato nodded thoughtfully. "Good, you're getting the hang of this. Our stories must coincide. _You_, my dear sister, have suddenly developed an interest for classical music and you purchased two tickets. You originally planned on taking me, because you would rather be dead than be seen without a partner for such a formal evening. You getting this in?" 

Machi inclined her head to show that she was following his words. "I've got two tickets to the annual Discovery Concert. My brother weasels out of the ticket that I bought for him, and as any respectable actress, I aint going nowhere to a place like the hundred and fiftieth floor of Elysian without a man's arm to perch on." 

"Exactly. I'll persuade, blackmail, threaten, cajole Hisoka into going with you. This series spans four weeks with a concert each Friday evening. You've got a month to get this right Machi. Think you can pull it off?" 

"But going to a concert like this isn't exactly, well, you know…romantic." 

And here, her brother's eyes sparked with mischievous cunning. "Machi honey, he's not just going to come pick you up and go straight to the concert. It starts at eight o'clock, so there'll be plenty of time for an early dinner and a walk about the park before you go in. Granted, it might be a bit windy at night, so lean into Hisoka a bit more, yadda yadda yadda, you get the drift?" 

"One more thing Legato. I know you're doing this for me as your sister, but isn't Hisoka one of your best friends too? Why are you…_cursing_…me upon him?" 

"That, dear Machi," he laughed aloud, "is something you don't need to fret over. But truth be told, Hisoka is getting just a little bit too old to go bed hopping anymore. If anyone's going to have him, I'd rather it be a person I know through and through because she will one day be part of the Ex Club too. What better candidate than my own sister?" 

Machi narrowed her golden eyes. "Am I supposed to hug you or punch you for saying that?"   


* * *

  


**8:30pm, Fame Court**

Kaéry was helping his dad wash and dry the dishes when he heard the frantic knocking on their door. His mother was sitting at the kitchen table with the day's newspapers sprawled out in front of her and a steaming cup of tea in her hand. She almost burnt her lip when the knocks startled their peaceful evening and that sparked off her incredible temper. Karasu gave Kaéry a knowing look, and both father and son paid even more attention to doing their chores. 

Lola snarled and threw the paper down, stalking over to the front door to see just who was so bloody inconsiderate to come knocking at this ungodly hour. 

"What do you want?" she growled as she flung the door open to express her resentment for being disturbed. The fire of retribution instantly died out when she saw that the visitor was a young man, possibly just reached his twenties, trembling from head to toe with tear streaked eyes. 

"Are you…Miss Lola?" he sniffed, two fat droplets of tears rolling down his alabaster cheeks now burning a fierce shade of crimson. 

"And…you are?" 

"Ku…Kurei ma'am." He managed to say through more sobs in a voice that was hoarse from hours of evident screaming and crying. 

"My brother's protégé? What are you doing here?!" she exclaimed, wondering if she should let the boy in. From an early age, she knew that her brother treasured his possessions with fierce ferocity. You don't really go around touching his belongings without permission lest you had a masochistic wish to die of strangulation by your own intestines. 

"I…I…ran away." Kurei looked down on the ground in complete misery, more salty tears leaking out of his eyes ragged by angry redness. He lifted his right forearm and pulled back the long sleeve to show her horrifying pink weals and bloody and broken skin from where a whip had mercilessly risen and fallen. Lola grew up in the rough and tough Northside and had seen many bloody and mutilated bodies before, but even this was too much. Her jaw dropped open on her own accord and she felt her heart aching so painfully for the boy. 

"Mentor….got angry at me…..went into Northside you see…and." 

"Just shut up and come in." she grabbed his arm and pulled him in, then berated herself as Kurei's face screwed up in pain. 

"Tell me everything. Stop crying and have a cup of tea. Kay! Make me a cup of tea – now!" 

"We have a visitor, Lola?" Karasu came around from the kitchen and stopped dead when he saw Kurei. 

"Why is he here?" he asked her coldly, violet eyes steadily trained on the boy with every ounce of suspicion he could muster. 

"Get rid of that look Karasu. Is it just your arm that's hurt Kurei-kun?" she guided his unsteady feet to the couch in their living room, the look of helpless concern still on her face. She went for a box of tissues and handed one for him to blow his nose and another to dry his tears. 

"Take off your shirt." She ordered, hands already reaching out for him despite his refusal. She lifted his shirt halfway up his chest and grimaced at the bruises and more welts there. 

"Dear gods! Who did this to you!" Karasu exclaimed, taking the cup of tea from his son and placed it on the coffee table in front of Kurei. Lola sighed. 

"It was Salar, but even I can't believe he would do such a thing. Kay," she turned to her son who was hiding behind his father's leg and peering over with childish curiosity. "why don't you go fetch the first aid kit in the medicine cabinet for me? And bring every single roll of bandage that you can lay your hands on." 

"My brother?! But Kurei…you're his protégé!" Karasu sat down on the other side of Kurei whilst his wife continued to gently fuss over him. Fresh tears welled up in his eyes at the mention of his mentor. 

"I can't do it anymore. It seems that I just can't please him. Every time I do something, he manages to find some fault or flaw in what I do. First it was my stutter that he beat out of me, next it was my attitude that he whipped into shape, then it was the way I walk, and then I had to learn to cook, sort out his paper work, fill in half of them myself, negotiate with his clients, do law, do economics, do business management. I can't keep up, and he always hits me because I can't seem to do anything right!" More tears of frustration poured down his face and his shoulders violently shuddered with each sob. 

Kaéry stood in the doorway, listening to each cry and felt sorry for the young man as well. He knew his uncle was strict, to the point of severe, but he never imagined him to go so far. Even his mother had never laid a finger on him, as rebellious and naughty he could be sometimes. He felt his fingers go numb on the metal box of the first aid kit and wondered for a moment if his uncle was really so inhuman. 

"He wants me to carry a sword from now on!" Kurei groaned. "I couldn't get the stances right and he said he'd keep beating me until I could perfect it." His face distorted into a bitter mask of hate. 

"Your arm is not high enough." He mimicked the tone of his mentor. "Your foot is in the wrong place. Your grip is all choked up. You aren't putting enough weight on your left leg. Your elbow has to be higher. Can't you do anything right? _I was practicing for five hours straight already! I tried my best already! Why is that never enough for him?!"_

He buried his face into his hands and cried until his hoarse and scratched vocal chords temporarily gave way and shut down. 

Karasu turned to see Kaéry in the doorway. "Bring the box here and go upstairs and play with some computer games ok Kay?" 

Kay's lip gave an involuntary tremble but he nodded and handed his dad the things his mother had told him to fetch and was glad he could leave the dining room. With any luck, his bedroom door may be able to block out all the noise too. 

The phone rang, but Lola immediately picked it up. She set it to speakerphone so that her husband and Kurei could hear. 

"Lola?" the barely audible whisper slid through the living room from the speaker of the phone. 

"Ah, brother. How nice of you to ring. It's been…what…four weeks since you've returned to Anime City, and I believe this is the first time I've spoken to you." Lola angrily retorted with sarcasm. 

"Sorry Lola…been occupied even though I was supposed to…" Salar broke off into a series of painful coughs. They heard him swallow before he finished the sentence off. "Supposed to be on holiday." 

"Brother….you don't sound ok." 

There was a small, delighted chuckle followed by a gasp of pain. "Yeah – but that….got me an extended….holiday. I get…..get till the end of Sum…mer." 

"You've got your protégé to look after you right? because you sound like you're dying." 

There were several deep breaths before Salar continued. "He….ran away. I….I" more coughs followed and Lola stared at the phone in horror. She was seriously contemplating the idea of putting on a jacket and heading over straight to Salar's place to make sure he made it through the night. 

"Got angry when he left and….choked on breath…stuffed up my flow of energies…….I suppose my blood….is running….running upside down right now." 

"Are you at Andelain Towers?" 

"No….my….other house….near Endless Parade." 

"Why did your protégé run away brother?" 

"So many…..questions….Lola. Lazy….idiot didn't want to….to practice his sword skills. Don't worry brother….he….will be back in a day……a day or two. Then I'm going….to break his legs…..teach him not to run away again." 

Karasu clamped a firm hand around Kurei's mouth to prevent the latter from screaming his head off and revealing exactly where he was hiding right now. Even though Karasu had heard dying men who sounded healthier than Salar sounded right now, he still managed to convey such malicious coldness and inevitability into the threat. 

"Brother…..could you come by with……with breakfast….tomorrow morning? I can't really…..get out of bed right now." 

Lola sat forward, her thumb and middle finger rubbing the sides of her forehead. Her waist length black hair dangled limply forward, reflecting her general deflated spirit. 

"Of course brother, anything for you. Are you sure you don't want to go to a hospital or anything? I won't find you dead in the morning will I?" 

Salar laughed again even though this was followed by an even lengthier series of unpleasant hacking coughs. "Doctors……would have….no clue. Just come by…..ok? I'll still be here." 

And with that, he hung up, leaving a morbid silence hanging thickly in the air of the living room. Lola looked apologetically at Kurei. 

"Look kiddo, I can break your legs cleanly and you shouldn't feel that much pain, ok? So you just sit here and let me fetch my bo – " 

"Lola?" Karasu exclaimed in horror. "What are you talking about?" 

With sagging shoulders and defeat in her no longer sparkling blue eyes, Lola's head drooped and she could only look at the ground. 

"It's for his own good Karasu. Salar _is_ going to get Kurei back, no matter how we try to hide him – you know you can never deny my brother what he wants. Lets just get this nasty business over and done with as soon as possible ok? It will be near painless Kurei-kun, I'll promise you that." 

"No." Karasu defiantly looked at his wife. "No one is breaking anyone's legs in my house as far as I'm concerned. Salar is not going to break his legs. You are not going to break his legs. Lets get him bandaged up. I take it you have nowhere else to go right, kid?" 

Kurei looked up with misery plastered across his face and gave a tiny nod, still stunned by the awful future that his mentor had in store for him. 

"All right," Lola nodded, clearly liking her husband's suggestion. "You stay here as long as you want, and no one will say a word that you're here. Don't worry, Kay won't talk if I ask him not to. That sound ok to you?" 

"Sounds great. And…thanks so much for this." He mumbled. But Karasu kindly shook his head and ruffled his hair. 

"No problemo kiddo. Usually, I don't approve of grown men sobbing and crying, but with your case, I fully understand how you feel. I don't even know why you hitched up with my brother in the first place, dreadful as his soul is. Couldn't even find it in his heart to shed some love for his own family, let alone a stranger. We've always wondered whether god accidentally misplaced his soul and substituted it with a block of ice. Anyway, Lola will patch you up – she's really good at this sort of stuff….and you can sleep in Salar's old bedroom. It hasn't been used since he moved out when I got married twelve years ago. Might be a bit dusty, but hey, anything better than the streets right?" 

Lola left the living room to fetch a pair of scissors for the bandage and Karasu immediately sat back down next to Kurei with a frantic note in his voice. 

"You said Salar taught you to cook right?" 

Kurei nodded, unsure what Karasu was playing at. 

"Much as I hate my brother," his mentor's twin muttered rapidly "I have to admit that he's probably the best cook in the world. Since you're freeloading and all…..do you reckon you could take over cooking the dinner? Because – " 

"Yes Karasu? Because what?" Lola said sweetly, the pair of scissors she went to retrieve suddenly looking all the more dangerous in her hands. Karasu's violet glare tried to communicate vital information to the guest. 

"Um…because…" Kurei stuttered, still trying to decipher the message. "Because I am freeloading…um…I only bought my sword and Quacker with me so I don't' have money to pay…therefore…" 

"Therefore?" Lola echoed, the sickeningly sweet smile still on her face, the dull gleam off the scissors blades more threatening than ever. 

"It is…um…only right that I….er….contribute something of my culinary skills to repay…yes!…repay your generous offer to let me stay here!" 

Karasu turned away to let out a trembling sigh even though the blood had drained completely from his face and his fingers were shaking madly. Lola merely nodded, the smile never wavering, and Kurei winced as he wondered if she was just pulling a _bit_ too tightly with the bandages.   


* * *

  


**11:30 pm – Hunter Works on location**

"I can't believe that I have to have a scene in the dead of night." Hisoka growled inside his shared trailer as he struggled into his ridiculous clown costume. The hunters all packed into a bus at five o-fricken-clock this morning to head off into the mountains some four hours drive away mainly for the second and fourth hunter examination scenes. By the time they arrived, the cameramen with April at its lead immediately began to unpack their equipment whilst they flittered to their assigned trailers to get changed. And lucky him just had to share it with Illumi. 

"Why are you here with us anyway?" he had asked irritably as he shoved his bag of belongings underneath his bed. Hisoka hated trailers – cramped, confined, no room to move or be a slob. 

"I've got a scene with you that's been scheduled at dusk. It lasts about a minute, that's why I'm here." Illumi muttered with his back to him, carefully pushing his bag beneath his bed on the other end of the trailer. "I'm only here for two days. You might have this trailer to yourself from Wednesday onwards." 

"Yeah – that's going to be a lot of good." 

"Why do you have to sound so irritated with me all the time?" Illumi's small voice was still capable of being heard in the cooped up area. 

"Because." Hisoka rolled his eyes and cursed when he banged his head on the roof. "Just because. I'm irritated by your very presence ok?" 

"Very well. I'll draw the curtain to separate our living space. Then you won't have to see me." He referred to the curtain down the dead center of the trailer which reminded Hisoka of the ones you saw at the hospital. He shrugged and went back to changing into his costume for the day. First scene – run through foggy forest behind Satotsu. He pitied the guy. Even though there was still fog up in the high peaks of the mountains, the sun was starting to shine through and it would be hot as hell to run in that maroon coloured suit he had to wear. Scene two, get into a fight with lots of extras and defeat them with one card. How ludicrous. 

And now, it was nighttime, and still the Director wouldn't given them a break. He was supposed to be engaged in a negotiation with Kurapika and Leorio on some round disc with a number on it. Damn – he'd trip over a tree root for sure and taste a mouthful of dirt in the dark. Couldn't they leave this to Tuesday night? He wanted to complain, but the idea of complaining to Silva seemed infinitely worse than feeling the bone weary tiredness he suffered from now. 

"Where's the other shoe damnit? Hey Illumi, have you – " he swung apart the curtain and caught Illumi right in the middle of pulling a shirt over his head, revealing a bare back decorated with uncountable lines of long scars. Illumi started a bit and hastily pulled his shirt back down again. 

"Where did – " 

"I don't have your damn shoe! You've probably left it outside on the steps of the trailer." He growled, red faced. 

"those scars…Abel and Buunchu never told me they knifed you!" Hisoka exclaimed in part anger and part horror. 

"No, they just used their fists ok? Now get out of my half of the trailer!" 

"Then who – " 

"NONE OF YOUR DAMN FUCKING BUSINESS!" Illumi roughly shoved Hisoka back onto his side of the trailer and viciously tugged the curtain across the room again. Much to his rising anger and displeasure, the clown was now engaged in a tug of war with him. And over a stupid, damn curtain! 

The material was wrenched off its hooks and came tumbling down on both of them. Illumi shrieked and cursed, blaming Hisoka whilst the latter grunted and worked his way out and closed the distance between Illumi and him again. 

"Show me those scars. You've lied to me more than a henka type could lie. If Abel and Buunchu really did this to you, I'm going to have to go to the police about this." 

"What part of "NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS" don't you understand?!" Illumi exclaimed, exasperated and in fear, continuously taking steps back until he hit the edge of his bed and gracelessly fell in among his bed sheets. Hisoka was instantly on top of him, trying to pull his shirt off. 

When pinching didn't work, punching was ineffective and biting left a horrid taste in his mouth, Illumi did the only thing left open to him. 

People wondered why screams and cries of "Get off me" could be heard emanating from Hisoka and Illumi's trailer. Surprisingly, it was the Director himself who bounded up the trailer stairs, kicked open the door and found himself appalled to the very marrow by what he saw. 

Hisoka. On Illumi's bed. On top of Illumi. Illumi in one torn and mangled shirt. Illumi sobbing like there was no tomorrow. 

"HISOKA! OUT! NOW!" he roared. Illumi gave another infuriated scream and kicked the stunned magician off and bundled himself up with his bed sheets, face gleaming with fresh tears. 

"Um…Killua, why don't you come in and comfort your brother?" said Silva as he twisted Hisoka's ear and marched him out of the trailer. 

"No – please – I just want to be left alone."   
  
  
  


Inside Silva's personal trailer, Hisoka wondered if his career at Hunter Works as at an end. He fully expected Silva to bust his vocal chords screaming all of hells furies into him, and was mightily surprised when the Director sighed, sat down and poured himself a cup of black coffee. 

"Ok Hisoka. I see you in compromising situation with Illumi and I want explanations. Fast. What the heck was going on in there?" 

"I saw scars on Illumi's back and wanted to know if he got them recently or not. If he did, I was going to report his assailants to the police. He wouldn't let me see them, so….well, you were in the middle of my attempts to check." 

Silva merely looked at him with those glassy blue eyes for a long time before he gave another sigh and motioned for the magician to take a seat. Hisoka instantly complied and wondered what else the director had to say to him. 

"Those scars are old. His father gave them to him." 

"With all due respect sir," Hisoka hesitantly interrupted, "but aren't you supposed to give me the whole 'he'll tell me where he got those scars when he's ready' type of thing?" 

Silva rolled his eyes. "Had you been a more reasonable and understanding person, yes, I would have said that something along those lines. But as you live with the absurd notion that you cannot be denied, I'll tell you, just so you can stop yourself from getting on top of my son and go about ripping the shirt off his back again." 

Hisoka swallowed and nodded. 

"His father's dead, but he hated Illumi when he was alive and beat him constantly. Kikyou told me this herself." 

"You mean…child abuse?" 

Silva negligently waved his hand. "Yes, whatever it's called these days. There – are there any more questions troubling your inquisitive mind?" 

"No sir." 

"You spread this, I kill you. Got that?" 

"Yes sir." 

"Now get back to your trailer. I'm canceling the film shots for tonight. Get out of my trailer." 

"Yes sir." 

"NOT A WORD TO ANYONE." 

Hisoka nodded and instantly headed straight back to his own van, ignoring the questioning looks of his other co-actors. When he closed the door shut behind him, he found Illumi in the middle of swallowing another handful of pills. The latter glared at him through bloodshot eyes. 

"Look Illu," the magician once again approached Illumi. "I…I didn't know you had such a bastard father and all." 

"Like you give a shit anyway." Illumi growled, still eyeing him with hate and caution. 

"Of course I do! Here…let me fix your hair." 

"Oh bloody hell, just stay away from me ok? And don't you – " 

"I was never planning on telling anyone. Gods, am I really that much of a jerk?" he took the brush off Illumi's table and sat back down on his bed despite the other man's efforts to push him off. 

"Don't touch my hair! Don't touch me! Don't touch – " 

Having finally lost his patience, Hisoka gripped Illumi tightly in both arms and let the boy exhaust his energies in his struggles. He kicked and bucked for a while, but seeing that it did no good, he stilled in Hisoka's arms, panting heavily. 

"Illu, I'm sorry." 

"No, you just feel pity for me. And I don't want people to become my friends just because they _pity_ me. Get off! I can survive in Anime City without your friendship thank you very much. I don't need you pity, I don't need your compassion, I don't need your sympathy." 

"Illu, I'm sorry." 

Hisoka held onto him whilst he silently continued to let his tears flow, and even when he was sound asleep, Hisoka still wouldn't relinquish his thin and battered body, holding him in comforting warmth for the entire evening. 

When Menchi went to give Hisoka his early morning wake up call, she entertained the thought of putting a gun to Illumi's head and pulling the trigger as she beheld the sight of Hisoka and Illumi, asleep, and clinging to each other like lost souls being tossed in the wild seas. 

Back to square one, she darkly thought. 


	16. Chapter 16: The wars begin

**Chapter 16**

**The wars begin**

* * *

**On Location – 5:00am**

Menchi cleared her throat with a loud "ahem" and firmly planted her hands on her hips. She pinned her iciest glare on Illumi's stirring body and took one threatening step forward. 

"Hisoka - you've got five minutes to get dressed for this morning's shoot. The Director doesn't like to be kept waiting," she growled, blood boiling all the way to the tips of her ears and turning her face red. The magician let out a grumble of barely coherent protest and rolled over, taking Illumi with him, so that his back was facing the pink haired cook, almost in a defiant sort of way, daring her to do or say something about it. 

Menchi struggled not to have a flying fit and her lips twisted into a poisonous smile and shadows danced across her face. _Oh, I'll do something about it all right _she spitefully thought and turned on her heals, heading straight for the trailer door and flung it open. Giving the unresponsive back one more glittering look of hatred at being rebuked and ignored and just a small futile hope that Hisoka would just look at her for once, she stuck her head out the door and sweetly sang for all the world to hear: 

"Oh Director-sama! Hisoka is in bed with Illumi again. As much as I would like to start the filming punctually, you know me, being a weak and helpless girl and all - I don't have the strength to pull him off and make him get up!" 

Silva had been some way off talking about camera angles with April, who had a distressed look on her face as the conversation had lasted well over five minutes already. His keen ears pricked at the words "Hisoka" "bed" and "Illumi" and his body stiffened. April was on the verge of tears when Director Zoldick's face darkened immeasurably at Menchi's lilting voice and career alternatives began popping in her mind by the dozen. The handful of other actors up at the grey hour looked up with baffled expressions and weary eyelids and cups of steaming coffee in their hands. The Director stalked off and the moment he was a safe distance away, Toby sided up to her with a devilish twinkle in his chocolate brown eyes. She instantly frowned. His hair was messy again, and she had only seen him comb it down ten minutes ago. 

"Get back behind your camera and get rid of that look in your eyes. You're making me nervous already." 

"It's five o'clock in the morning April-sensei, and Hisoka-sama is causing yet another stir." 

April's frown deepened at the way that Toby's gaze was stuck to a particular trailer on the flat clearing amongst the other weather beaten trailers. 

"Don't pull a Hanzo on me Toby. Make sure the lighting is right - the fog is pretty thick this morning, so we definitely don't' want any fuzzy blurs or - " 

"For goodness sakes sensei!" Toby looked at her in exasperation, "Aren't you just _a little bit curious?_ The screaming last night, and now this? Hisoka-sama gave the whole 'just friends' speech last time when the _Insider_ published those pictures. What will be his excuse today I wonder?" 

He was not alone in the smirk or the giggling. A dozen extras here for the shoot either shared puzzled looks or caught on to the gossip and furiously whispered amongst themselves. Toby flittered off to find some more willing participants in the latest discussion, leaving April to bite her lip despondently. 

Shooting wasn't going to begin on time again. 

Silva responded in under two seconds to Menchi's call and he was once again bounding up the steep trailer stairs. He banged the door shut and instantly bore down on Menchi. 

"What in **blazes **do you **_think_ **you were doing, yelling out like that!" The cook's breath caught so painfully in her throat that it nearly bought tears to her eyes as she reflexively took a step back. She certainly hadn't anticipated this reaction from the Director. 

"Do you know how many extras, _outsiders_, are here today?" he continued to hiss, making his loathing for her actions more than clear. 

He's going to throttle me, he really wants to strangle me and stick knives into my defenseless body, Menchi hysterically thought, panic causing her knees to tremble uncontrollably. She was sapped of strength and vitality, the Director's anger like a violent storm ripping all the defiance out of her. The Director was so close to murdering her and dumping her body in Northside, and it was all Illumi's fault. If only he didn't exist. If only he never met Hisoka. If only he did not put Hisoka under some spell that left no room in Hisoka's eyes for anyone but him. 

Damn him, she thought as hot tears spilled from her wide eyes. Damn him. I wouldn't be in trouble if he never met Hisoka. 

"Useless girl. Get out of here and learn to keep your mouth shut. GET!"   
  
  
  


Menchi sniffed and rubbed her eyes dry, brushing past the director in the cramped room and let out an involuntary sob before she closed the door behind her then made a run for her own room that she shared with Gon's manager Mito. She didn't dare to cry aloud until her head was firmly buried beneath two pillows. Mito rubbed her back soothingly, trying to console her, but it took more than sweet words to quell the fires of hatred burning away every inch of sensibility in Menchi right now. 

Her emotions were running amok. The word 'backfire' repeatedly flared up in her mind, bright red, in blocky capital letters. Failure. Lost. Hopeless. The Director was supposed to be on _her_ side, not HIS. One night together, her plans all shattered. 

The mess of jumbled thoughts made her sick. How was this all happening? Her plans, plans she'd meticulously poured over with all her twisted determination, were unraveling at a pace that her eyes couldn't keep up. Too fast, too fast, someone please explain to her how everything just went to hell in a handcart. 

_-- > > They're together again – on the same bed – I don't matter. --_

_-- > > _He stuck up _him_ – wrong side wrong side wrong side – I'm the one who's wrong. _ --_

Things not making sense. I'm the one who's wrong. 

_Fighting for what I want is wrong?_ _What kind of logic is that?_ Menchi thought hysterically to herself. 

"I can't stand this anymore!" she wailed into the bed sheets rapidly being drenched by her salty tears. "It's just…_not fair_! I don't understand why the Director told _me_ off when it was **_his_** fault! HIS fault!" 

"Shhh, shhhh, it's ok. I'm sure the Director was more angry at that Illumi than you." Mito pulled a handful of tissues out of the tissue box and peeled away the pillows on top of Menchi's head. She gently dabbed at the corners of those bleeding red eyes and sympathetically beheld that piteous gaze. 

"No one said it was your fault dear," she cooed in a warm, soft voice that she often used with her friends who had suffered a breakup with their jerk of a boyfriend. "It's not your fault," she repeated with emphasis to make sure that the actor heard and then handed her a glass of water. 

"I can't work with him…no, I _won't_ work with him," Menchi clenched fistfuls of her bed sheets and gritted her teeth. "I never want to work with him," she chanted over and over again as her eyes became distant and far off, her mind flashing through images of blood and violence. 

"Stop it Menchi, you mustn't think like that," Mito's voice sharply cut through along with her piercing glare. "You ruin your complexion when you get angry and you can't let him get to you like this." Gon's manager dabbed at the actor's eyes some more and tilted the gourmet hunter's head so that their eyes were firmly locked. 

"Now listen to me dear – getting rid of someone is a subtle and fine art. _Art_ do you hear me? There's no screaming or yelling involved, and certainly no murderous look in your eyes." 

The cook blinked rapidly as the words sank into her brain. She gulped down the last of the water but her mouth still trembled. 

"It's harder than you think." 

"Of course dear, you don't think I went through the same thing just so I could become Gon's manager? Have you any idea how many people I knocked off to get my job and position?" 

Menchi dipped her head down, fingers now digging fiercely into her scalp. "But I can't stand him anymore. I'm at my wit's end. One night – they were supposed to have been fighting last night." More tears leaked out and dripped onto the floor of the trailer. "He managed to destroy all my work overnight, just like that, probably with a few tears of his own and some sob story about a tragic past or something." 

She felt moisture on her fingertips. Curious, she bought her hand to her face and noted her bloody fingernails. She felt no pain in her scalp, her senses completely enthralled by the thudding beat of her heart in her ears and the glowing burns on her cheeks. 

"Perhaps I should invent some tragic story of my own just so Hisoka will pity me and hold me in his arms for a night as well." She muttered, torn between defeated bitterness and the flicker of hatred and defiance that refused to dim. Struggling on the tether, traversing the dangerous tightrope, the bottomless abyss of infinite darkness beneath. Gods, the pressure of indecisiveness and helplessness. 

"Silly child – this is only the beginning. If you can't cope with the start of the battle, there's no way you can continue, let alone win it. Now how desperately do you want the prize?" 

The cook's eyes hardened. "Very badly."   
  
  
  


Silva sighed with defeat after Menchi stormed out of the trailer, glad to have put off another problem to deal with. Speaking of which, problems had a habit of plaguing him these days, closer and closer to home each time. 

He felt comfortable just staring at the door, a normal and uninteresting door, just as his life should be. For one moment, he mused that if he stared at the door long enough, his problems might just go away or fade into the background as minor annoyances that could be left to rot. But no, Menchi had decided to announce his problems for the whole world to hear, and if he didn't fix it now, the whole world might nag him to death about it. 

But if you really think about it, the door is pretty bland, not to mention dull and lacking in personality. It would be a pitiful life if you could compare it to a trailer door – with a plastic window to look through and a broken set of venetian blinds to keep prying eyes away. Problems aren't that bad, Silva tried to reason to himself, especially if it enlivens your life in the positive sort of way. 

'Positive' being the operative term. 

No use dallying around with one's thoughts – haven't got all day. Who knows; if he was lucky, Menchi might very well be mistaken or her eyes had deceived her in the early hours of the morning. 

Unfortunately, the two idiots were intimately sharing a single bed for whatever inscrutable reasons and motives that he didn't even want to touch with a ten foot barge pole. Sharp pains started stabbing at the sides of his temples that wouldn't go away even with the vigorous, then later frenzied, rubbing of eucalyptus oil. 

Silva cautiously approached the bed, dreading with each step what he could and might see. Self doubt began to gnaw away in his mind, leaving him drenched in cold sweat. Why did things turn out to be this way? Why did _Illumi_ have to turn out like this? Silva could not deny his welling disappointment and disgust but at the same time felt helpless to do anything about it. Even if he had Kikyou on his side on this matter, the last vestiges of what remained of his conscience told him that anything less than unconditional love for his son would pave his road straight to hell with an extra two buckets of grease sloshed all over it just so he can go down to the fiery infernos that much faster. 

_Damn the conscience,_ he thought, but alas, not even Lady MacBeth, the greatest villain ever, could escape her own conscience. _Can't damn the conscience_ he painfully concluded, _I owe the boy too much. What kind of father will I be if I watched him drown right before my eyes? I owe him too much._

His son was awake, albeit just, and those inky black eyes wearily studied the ceiling. Illumi made no move to remove the limbs draped across his body, and he lay as still as a corpse. 

"I don't remember a thing from last night." he said to no one in particular, barely acknowledging Silva's presence. "Why am I still here? I'm supposed to be back in Anime City by now. I've got a meeting with some magazine editors today, then more business to discuss with Millu over lunch." He finally tilted his head to one side and looked at Silva with lifeless eyes. There was a long, strained silence. 

"I take it you don't know either then." Illumi sighed and went back to gazing at the ceiling again. "Maybe this is just one strange dream, and when I wake up, I'll be in my bed in my own apartment." 

Silva incredulously watched Illumi's eye lids droop and the young man was instantly asleep again before he could even get a word in. 

It's all Hisoka's fault, Silva thought angrily to himself and mercilessly pinched the magician's ear, savagely twisting it as one would to a wind up watch. 

"Get up you lazy slug! I can't believe you need me to give you a personal wake up call. Are you really sure you want to see my face first thing in the morning?" 

Hisoka's petrified scream of fright was all the answer that he needed, and the man leapt into action straight away. He stumbled over his clown shoes to reach the dresser where his brush lay and sloshed down a cup of straight black while he was brushing his hair. Under the gaze of the feared Director, Hisoka got dressed and ready to go in the record time of one minute and forty six seconds. It would have helped if he hadn't tripped over the last step leading to his trailer and landed face first in the damp earth leaving the front of his costume ruined by the mud. He bolted at the first howl of annoyance from Silva and locked his trailer door shut, shivering uncontrollably like a cornered animal as the vengeful banshee rattled at his creaky iron gates.   


* * *

  


**Fame Court, 7:30am**

"Oh shit! Karasu! Get the car ready, I'm almost done!" Lola threw a bundle of dirty pots and pans into the sink and sucked piteously on her fingertip that was burned when she brushed against a kettle whistling like mad. Tears moistened her eyes but she gritted her teeth and refrained from throwing the blasted kettle out the window and continued to stir in the boiling water into the oats. They would be nice and soggy by the time she got to her brother's place. 

Throwing one last regretful look at the charred and burnt pots, the failed attempts at a healthy, decent breakfast, she closed the door behind her to prevent the smell of burnt bacon escaping into the rest of the house. 

"Kay!" she shouted up the stairs in the general direction of her son's room, "Kay you lazy bum! Dad and I are going out now! You make sure you clean the kitchen and….er…buy something to eat this morning ok?" 

The new guest to her house poked his head from out of Salar's old room, eyes blinking groggily. 

"You say something ma'am?" he looked at her in confusion, which, even in his disheveled state, was still so adorably handsome and cute that Lola felt utterly repulsed and disgusted. What kind of monster had her brother reared? Overcoming that little observation, she also took note of the fact that she was shouting loud enough to bring the roof down, and Kurei looked like he barely heard the morning call. 

It was just so difficult to give a placid, calm smile when agitation was so intense that it made you want to kick someone, hard. 

"It's ok Kurei-kun. I've just made my brother's breakfast and Karasu is giving me a lift before he goes to work." 

Kurei ducked his head back behind the door, followed by heavy clumsy footsteps and a series of bangs and crashes. He then flew out of the room, still trying to fit his arm through his shirt and almost tripped over the leg of a pair of pants that Karasu had loaned him. It was only due to god's kind graces and pure luck that Kurei didn't tumble down the staircase and knock his front teeth out. 

"Kurei," Lola began severely, the irritated growl barely suppressed, "I would like to state for the record that I have a habit of beating the living daylights out of men who appear before me with their fly undone. So for the sake of your fragile and delicate health, I strong suggest you get back into you room and get some more sleep." 

"But I should cook something for mentor – " 

"Are you an idiot?! Cook with the same style and technique that my brother taught you?! He'd know where you were hiding in an instant, then come over to break your legs." She sucked in a deep breath to cool the burning in her cheeks. Then, when she was sure her voice was steady, continued, "Look kiddo, you've got to stay quiet for the next week or so until Salar gets nervous and retracts those threats. I've made breakfast already." She lifted up the canteen in her hand for him to see but he wrinkled his nose at the smell of burnt meat in the air. Lola's fists clenched by her side. 

"You can go to the kitchen and scrap out all the burnt bottoms if you insist. And no – " she savagely cut off any gesture of protest, "it's not the best food but I promise Salar won't die from eating it. Gees!" 

Lola turned on her heels and stalked towards the front door, slamming it behind her. She hopped into the front seat of Karasu's black Mercedes and puffed like an angry bull in front charging up for the annual Spanish Bull Run. 

"Easy there Lola, what's got you so upset at this time of day?" Karasu easily asked, oblivious to the homicidal anger building up in his wife and set the car along Fame Court. 

Lola threw up her hands in utter helplessness. "I don't get it. My brother beats the kid to pulp and he _still_ wants to cook his breakfast! If it were me, I'd be throwing every type of poison I could lay my hands on." 

"You would, but we always knew that Salar was a manipulative bastard – he'd just never used it on people until now. Poor kid, he was defenseless when he met Salar." 

"Yes," his wife echoed, eyes ostensibly glued to the road but her mind focused on entirely different things. "Poor kid."   
  


The car was parked on the curb in front of a two storey house with a white picket fence and neat boxes of flowers doubtlessly arranged by a hired gardener. Karasu narrowed his eyes at the deceptively pleasant surroundings for he could feel an unearthly chill emanating from the building. An aura capable of destroying the bravest hearts lapped about his feet, warning him on pain of death to approach no further. Even in Salar's weakened state, he was no less menacing, and possibly twice as deadly. His narrowed eyes sunk into a frown of incredible dislike. 

"It's always about appearances with him. If he weren't my brother, I swear I would have gutted him and left his body to rot in Northside." 

"What stepped on your tail?" his wife threw him a puzzled look. 

"Just about everything that I'm seeing right now. I'm just sick and tired of Salar's mind games. He suddenly leaves Anime City without a word then comes back and sticks up the biggest tent since Cirque du Solei, messes with his own protégé and now lives in this…house!" 

Lola shook her head and rolled her eyes. "And what's wrong with the house?" 

"It's not him. They should build one of ice just for him, and he'd be comfortable in it. The walls should be scaled by poison ivys and his front garden infested with venus fly traps. People who don't know him for the heartless freak-show that he is will fall into his trap." 

"Stop worrying about Kurei, and keep you voice down damnit! I know you're angry about what happened to the kid, but don't even hint at it or else my brother will know." 

"You're right Lola," Karasu tested the front door and found it surprisingly unlocked. Hell, even if you were the most desperate thief, it would be in your best interests to steer clear of Salar no matter how dire your circumstances. "Lets just get this over and done with." 

Both took a deep breath and entered into a disquieting and eerily silent room. All the curtains were closed and the grey light of the morning didn't reach far into the corridor. Karasu and Lola's shadows were brutally cut short by the suffocating darkness which held the light at bay and husband gave wife a nervous look. 

"I feel like I'm about to step through the gate of the Underworld. _And before me, nothing but eternal things were made, and shall last an eternity. Abandon all hope, all ye who enter._" 

Lola shivered and glared at her husband. "Please, I'm trying to be brave for the both of us, and your morbidness is not helping. For god's sakes, we're only here to visit another family member." 

"There is no god in here," Karasu continued to murmur, hysteria filled eyes fixated on the infinite darkness ahead of him. "We're bloody damned." 

From out of nowhere, a ghostly pale hand settled on Lola's shoulder. She screamed with fright and swung the nearest thing at hand – which happened to be the canteen holding Salar's breakfast. She took one step forward (still screaming) and bought the slingshot around with strength a woman shouldn't have and clobbered whatever supernatural creature that dared to sneak up behind her. 

"Ow…" 

Something or rather someone crashed to the ground, stunned from the blow. In the overwhelming darkness, Karasu fought not to shriek like a woman and fumbled for the closest light switch whilst Lola gave the fallen foe another sharp kick, just in case it did turn out to be some supernatural being from the dark side. She had a lovely son to go back home to and she wasn't going to die without fighting. 

"….brother….me…." 

Her hands instantly flew to her mouth. "Oh. My. Gosh! Salar….is that you?!" 

"No, I'm what remained of your brother, the undead, a walking corpse – a lich jealous of your vibrant life." 

That said in the most terrifyingly horrific whisper, Karasu lost it and screamed for Lola to run whilst he grabbed a vase from the nearby stand and threw it in the general direction of the voice. After a resounding crash and an eternal moment's silence: 

"I was….being SARCASTIC!" 

"It's a nasty trick!" Karasu said breathlessly, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. "Turn the lights on Lola – we're going to put this fiend back into the depths of hell." 

"I…I was just kidding. Me. Salar. Alive….well, barely. I think I'm bleeding…" 

Lola finally managed to find a light switch and both husband and wife beheld the spectacle of a tragically pale man collapsed on the floor amongst a heap of broken porcelain. There was a nasty purple swelling already showing up on his forehead and a thin trail of bright red blood trickled down the side of his face from the cut just above his left eye. 

"I know you've always been jealous of my good looks, brother," Salar spat as Lola helped him to stand, his entire body shuddering from the effort, "but did you need to go so far as to disfigure me with ceramic shards?!" 

Karasu mumbled some half hearted apologies and made a move towards the living room to draw apart the heavy curtains. Salar, half limping half leaning on Lola, visibly shied away from the sunlight, causing his brother to suspect that he may have traded his immortal soul for an immortal life as that of a vampire. 

"It's a small scratch. Act like a man and deal with it," he said without much remorse. 

"Small scratch?!" Salar's voice went up two octaves, but that effort bought about a session of unhealthy coughing. After it subsided, his ice blue eyes glared at his brother's nonchalant back. "Small scratch," he muttered, "I'd like to see you react to a 'small scratch.'" 

Salar's bed was the reclining chair situated in the middle of his living room. Karasu's expression remained neutral but he was quite surprised by the spartan surroundings and the lack of luxuries or refinement. He was a firm believer that Salar indulged in all the finest things of the world – from cuisine, his sharp attire to the fiber optics of technology; an opulent lifestyle if you will. But this house was plain beyond plain. There was one coffee table on top of a brown rug, one blanket on a couch, one television and just four bare walls. Not even a Picasso or Van Gough painting! 

His brother painfully settled into his recliner and closed his eyes in a way which reminded Karasu very much of a dying man. Scratch that – he'd seen dying men who looked healthier. For a bizarre moment, the fact that he was able to see his brother dying gave him a picture of how he would look if he ever befell such unfortunate circumstances. Seeing your own body at your own deathbed – Karasu's blood turned cold and he fought the impulse to study the invisible specks of dust on the cuffs of his jacket. 

"Look Lola, if cooking breakfast for me was such an unlikable chore, just so 'no' next time ok? I don't want to have the living daylights beaten out of me for asking again." Salar's long and slim fingers, the perfect hands of a cello player, caressed his aching ribs where Lola had kicked him when he had fallen down. Judging by the way he screwed up his eyes at the slightest touch, it was obvious that Lola had cracked at least four ribs. She looked away guiltily. 

"I don't mind brother, seriously I don't. But you sneaking up on us like that…" 

"**_Sneaking up on you?!"_** Salar's head arched back onto the recliner as pain shot through him, snapping at his nerves, and he bit his lower lip to prevent the scream from escaping. Droplets of tears squeezed past his eyes and his face lost even more colour, if that were possible. 

"I was NOT sneaking up on you," he whispered, voice cracked and hoarse, but he was still determined to have the last say. "You should have known it was me – no one else can get past the laser network." 

Karasu looked at his brother, aghast, "Shit Salar, you still playing with those dangerous things?" 

Salar waved his hand dismissively, silently indicating that he wasn't going to answer. His hands fell to his sides and his breathing gradually resumed a normal, steady pace. 

"Just leave the breakfast on the table. I'll eat it when I'm hungry." 

"Brother, you really don't look well. I'm going to call an ambulance and we're going to get you to hospital." 

Those fine fingers lashed out with uncanny speed and gripped onto Lola's wrist, instantly numbing the area. She flinched at the cold but did not pull away, amazed that despite his wilting condition, he still had the reserves to hold her back. 

"I already said," Salar hissed, ice blue eyes furiously cold, "that the hospitals won't know what is wrong with me. I just need rest." 

The standoff lasted an entire minute and when Lola retrieved her hand, she realized that the entire forearm had gone numb. Rubbing to get some blood running again, she did as she was instructed and placed the canteen of porridge on the coffee table. 

She looked around at the sparse surroundings and sighed. "Very well then, is there anything else that I can do for you before I go?" 

"Yeah," her husband added by the window, staring intently at the road outside, "there's this parking inspector who's getting too close to my car. Is this a no-parking zone?" 

"Permit zone. Get the car revved up Karasu, I've just got a few more words to say to Salar." 

Karasu nodded, sparing his brother's fragile form one last glance before he left the house. As his footsteps dimmed, Salar turned to Lola with a slightly apologetic look. 

"Didn't mean to snap at you, you know that right?" 

Lola closed her eyes with weariness and nodded. 

"I'm really glad that you came Lola. Truly. I was afraid that you wouldn't help." 

"I'm just slightly pissed off that you never called during the month that you've been back." 

"I was busy Lola, just damn occupied by work." 

She looked down on him with passionless eyes, telling him that she didn't believe him. Salar turned away, unable to endure her severe gaze. 

"That CD in the drawer over there – it's got everything that I've been working on the past month. I'm showing you highly confidential information Lola, because I've never hid anything from you before. Take it and see what I've been up to if that will erase these tensions between us." 

"What _have_ you been working on, brother?" she went to Salar's work table and pulled open the first draw, finding the disc in its plastic cover on top of an envelope that was addressed to her. She knew that he meant for her to see it, and so she took it without bothering to ask. 

"Recruiting people for my department. Aren't you proud of me Lola? I've become a General of Vallanor." 

"What does being a General mean?" she asked softly, taking the blanket from the couch and gently draping it over her brother's prone form. There was a glitter of boundless and burning ambition in those ice blue eyes for a fraction of a moment and then it was smothered, so quickly that Lola wasn't even sure if she had imagined it or not. It was a new light, a pale and sickly coloured light that she had never seen in her brother before. It could make the most hardened Northsider shiver at an ambition so ruthless and brutal. She never thought that she would come to describe Salar this way – ruthless, merciless, hell-bent on achieving one's own desire regardless of the cost or consequences. 

This person….wasn't her brother. He was a twisted and malformed creature that took the shape of Salar. Or, as the cold fist of dread gripped around her stomach, someone had ripped every shred of compassion and humanity in him and left a void which he filled with an insatiable craving for power. Her brother never needed power – he had no use for it. He was a man who dabbled in anything, idle and carefree, not some workaholic who didn't even have time to see her anymore. 

_Get rid of that smirk!_ she wanted to yell at him and slap him across the face, hoping that alone would be enough to salvage him from the frightening depths of emptiness that he found himself drowning in. For the sake of elevating his power and position, he could distance her and hurt his protégé who worshipped the very ground that he stepped on. And even if all his friends and family had abandoned him, he would still smile and delicately laugh. She could easily imagine him saying that he had no need or use for them anymore – so long as he had _Vallanor._

Vallanor changed and destroyed him, that much she knew. In the years that she had drifted apart from her brother, this organization, _Lord Vallissa_, began to defile and pollute his mind with filthy ideas. But Salar was a highly intelligent man – surely he could see through the futility and fickleness of power, and how that power destroyed more people than it had propped up. What did they give Salar, what did they allow him to taste that was so addictive that even a man of Salar's nerve and self control would cave in to? 

"….Everything…" was Salar's final response. And after that, he began to speak in a different language, a lilting and beautifully musical and lyrical language that just slipped off the tongue and flowed onto the next word like the gentle lapping water of a small brook. His voice strengthened as he continued his recitative and whether by a trick of the vocal chords or the deception of her ears, they began to ring in consonance, stronger and stronger until it sounded like a band of silver trumpets all holding the one note. Lola succumbed to the overpowering music and the deeper she fell, the more the words began to make sense to her. She did something that she hadn't done for a long time. 

She fled, bolting for the door with Salar's mocking and triumphant laughter behind her. 

If there was a God – please pity those marked for Salar's recruitment, for he would damn their souls and drag them to the inescapable depths of everlasting horror.   
  
  


* * * * 

  


Lola didn't tell her husband about what she had heard. She bravely put on a smile, hoping that he wouldn't be able to see the slight tremors in her upper lip, and suggested that they find a place for breakfast. The CD and envelope were stuck to her hand, the paper crunched piteously in her iron fist. She put them both in the glove box and decided to look into them later. For now, she tried to keep her mind vacant and free of every single issue and problem in her life and looked forward to a warm meal. 

Karasu parked the car and they walked over to _Ukyo's Delhi_, but Karasu abruptly stopped, his attention fixed onto some people across the other side of the road. 

"Well I never. That's Legato and his sisters!" he remarked. 

Most people didn't like to remind Legato that he had _two_ sisters. They tended to avoid talking about his _other_ sister who was not as respectable or as well-to-do as Machi. Machi was the youngest of the three siblings and Legato the eldest. The middle child had a good life to begin with, was contracted with SNK to produce a hit, teen arcade-type fighting show called King of Fighters. SNK cautiously began with the game, modeling the characters on the real actors themselves to test the receptivity of the market. After the game did so well as to spawn three sequels, the project of making the KoF series was well under way. 

But the project was abandoned mid way and the series never came to be broadcasted because one of the actors had turned feral. Iori lost himself to his part and couldn't separate the reality from fiction, thus became psychotic and homicidal. And his illness infected a handful of other colleagues at SNK who also fell into the depths of madness, and together, they breached their contracts and sought haven in Northside. Leona was one of the people who followed Iori into the liberating subconscious and unreality, and from that day onward, Legato and Machi both lost a sister. 

And here she was, a Northsider dressed in tattered and dirty clothes standing on the pristine roads of Anime City with a helpless look on her face. 

Legato had decided that Machi needed a complete makeover before Hisoka returned from the mountain shooting and so started the day early and dragged her out of bed so that the two of them could refit her wardrobe. Only minutes into their campaign, their disowned sister Leona confronted them on the very streets. 

Legato snarled. "What do you want?" 

Leona's blue hair was matted and oily, straw like and lifeless with none of its once wondrous shine and volume. Her eye bags sagged prominently and her face was hollow and gaunt, her skin a pale, sickly yellow. She whipped some hair back from her face with bony fingers and looked pleadingly to Machi. 

"Machi dear, would you listen to your sister please?" Leona said in a slurred, lazy speech that you would only hear from intellectually handicapped people. Her 'I's sounded like 'Ahs' and very much reminded Machi of the southern, Texas accent. Leona's signs of deterioration were alarming, and her abusive drug use was beginning to ruin her brain. Every now and then, a muscle involuntarily twitched on her face and her right arm flexed without control. 

"I need help – I can't stay with Iori in Northside anymore." 

"Why is that?" Legato glared at her darkly, "I thought you were having the time of your life in there." 

Leona fervently shook her head, eyes wide with terror. "You don't know what's happened! Iori's gone crazy! He doesn't seem to recognize us anymore, and he keeps on talking about the most horrible….foul things." 

Legato was impervious to her pleading, "Yeah, I kinda gathered that when he took half of SNK with him into Northside. I have nothing to give you that you want. Get out of my sight before your stink rubs off on me." 

"Please brother, I have no place to stay anymore. I can't go back to Northside – everything's changing and I…and I….was so lucky to escape. There aren't any more people in there…just demons and monsters." 

"Lee," Machi held out her hand to her sister but Legato slapped them away. 

"Don't touch her – she might be carrying a disease. Get out of here Leona. You chose this path, so deal with it. We've got more important things to do." 

Leona glared at her brother through wet eyes. "Aren't you gonna tell Hisoka about what happened to his baby cousin? Iori's gone _mad_ – after he spoke to some strangers, he's all into cutting up people and lapping their blood off the knives and tables. I saw with my own eyes and I fell sick at the sight. He had cut up Vice the last time I saw and her head….I can't get her head out of my mind. Something's possessed him and I can't do anything about it so I ran. Please, brother," her harsh, angry voice dipped into a soft tone again, one filled with vulnerability. "Please, I got no place to stay…" 

"Legato, Legato," Karasu sang mockingly, his wife grudgingly at his side as he decided to interfere with the family reunion, "how can you so harsh to your own – " 

Machi couldn't care less about who had come to make fun of them, but the rapid changes of emotion on Leona's face was astounding. At the sight of Karasu and Lola, she changed from forlorn misery to unbelievable shock, then appalling anger so that her face was bleached a ghostly white. 

"YOU!" she screamed, pointing a shaking finger at him. "IT WAS YOU!" 

Leona whipped out a grubby looking gun from the small of her back and immediately raised it to point at the stunned Karasu. Lola's reflexes were faster and no sooner had Leona produced the gun, Lola had already kicked it out of her hand. Karasu's closed the gap between he and Leona in the blink of an eye and landed a heavy blow to her gut that crushed every molecule of oxygen out of her lungs. Then whilst she was bent over wheezing and spluttering, he violently bought down his fists onto her back so that she crashed onto the hard pavement. 

Karasu immediately held bent her arm and held her down in the arm-lock whilst Lola crushed the gun to pieces beneath her boots. 

"All right bitch," he spat, "who paid you to take me out?!" 

He ground her face into the concrete ground, but she struggled, screaming and crying until Karasu relaxed his grip slightly to let her speak. 

"IT WAS YOU! Iori went mad after you spoke with him. I'll recognize your face and hunt you down to the ends of the earth you – " 

"Silence!" Legato sharply interrupted, "Karasu would _never_ go into Northside." 

"And that bitch by his side as well. The pair of you spoke to my Iori," she wept hysterically, "and he became crazy afterwards. It was you." 

Karasu slowly removed his knee from Leona's back and hauled her to her feet. With surprising gentleness, he looked into her face. His violet eyes shimmered with intensity. 

"Tell me Lee, what colour were the man's eyes?" 

Leona stopped crying and sniffed, puzzled by the strange question. But the man in front of her was somehow…different. He wasn't as cold and he certainly didn't make her afraid. His eyes were gentle and firm...but... 

"They were a pale blue, like chips of ice," she moaned, stepping away from Karasu's gaze. "And cold, just like an iceberg. He made me scared and nervous when I saw him talking to Iori. And he was also with a woman." 

"Listen lady, I haven't been back in Northside for ages. I don't get involved anymore," Lola said defensively. This gave some time for Leona to study her as well, and she realized that although there were some strikingly similar features – black hair, deep blue eyes, distinguished features. The other woman that she saw reminded her of the keen edge of a blade. This woman…was much diminished in comparison, and…rounder…for a lack of words to describe her. 

"You are not the one either. I'm sorry – she just looked a lot like you." 

Legato let out a trembling sigh and he moved forward to fix Leona's clothes. "Sorry Lee, I didn't know that Salar had been stirring things up in Northside. He's a dangerous man now – not the one I used to know ever since he returned as an agent of Vallanor." He turned to Machi, "Lets get Lee home first and find her something to wear. Perhaps we should all get together some time later to…" 

"Further discuss this matter," Karasu finished off, fists clenched by his side. His brother was using his face to commit all sorts of crimes. 

"Machi," Leona wiped away the last of her tears, "you should tell Hisoka…about Iori." 

The petite actress gave a small nod. "I will." 

* * *

**Author's notes:**   
Wow...what a delay - sorry about the wait peoples. Well, due to divine inspiration, I just came up with a new subplot and was able to successfully incorporate it into the main part of the story. *cheers* 

Anyhow, this chapter is a bit short compared to the others, especially lacking in the Hisoka x Illumi department, but I'm getting there - just so close to the first climax now. YES! 

So please - leave a review and tell me the things you liked and disliked. 


	17. Chapter 17: War Plans and Intelligence G

**Chapter 17**

**War Plans and Intelligence gathering**   


Dougy set down the china cup onto its matching saucer and sighed pleasurably, leaning back in his seat and listened to the light classical music in the classy coffee house. He casually ran a hand through his considerably shortened blue hair. His delicate fingers rubbed the tips of his fringe and he laughed aloud. Silver tips! That Illumi sure knew how to change an image. 

"I'm glad to see that you're pleased with your new look Dougy," Illumi said, the tight smile finally easing as Dougy finally gave his (affirmative) reactions to the last touches that made him street ready. Illumi could feel the heat of excitement in his cheeks and he knew he was looking at the man who would dominate the Autumn fashion catwalks and be elevated into the status of demi-god of men. The fruit of his efforts was blooming in front of him, like a lotus' velvet soft petals opening up to reveal layer upon layer of captivating beauty. 

"You just keep smiling like that Dougy, and you'll have every teenage girl, woman, grandma and gay man chasing after you down the street begging for your hand in marriage. We're halfway there." 

Hushed giggles followed by a series of excited whispers from a group of young girls eyeing them from the table not far away could be heard. Dougy blew them all a kiss and winked. He felt a small twinge of interest when the pale blonde one among them narrowed her eyes menacingly and deliberately turned away, urging her friends to do the same. 

He laughed aloud again and took another sip of the tea, loving how there would be a refreshed taste in his mouth after flinching at the bitterness of the drink. It reminded him a lot of his ordeal - having shot to fame, been bought back down by infuriating carelessness and having slummed in the gutters and the downside of town for years, he was a new man again. The world was such a welcoming and livable place when everything was going your way and the girls blushed when you let your gaze settle on their faces. Dougy reserved his self-indulgence for later, in the private space of his own home where none of his more embarrassing exhibitions would come to light. He cocked an eyebrow at his hairdresser-cum-fashion designer. 

"Let's get to the more important business. How was your time on location with Hisoka and the other actors? Did it go well?" 

Illumi gave a vague nod and he looked elsewhere, a small frown of confusion on his face. 

"I don't really know what happened - I've forgotten quite a lot of it. When I was back in Anime City, I found out that it was Thursday, not Wednesday. I lost an entire day and I don't even know where it went. A lot of clients were angry that I missed all my appointments with them, but that's ok. It's not like they can stay angry forever." 

Dougy leaned forward with a solemn expression, chin resting on the back of his entwined fingers. "What do you mean? Like you don't remember?" 

Illumi nodded again, biting his lips in helplessness. "Yeah, I guess so." 

"You must have been celebrating really hard after your first shoot ever. I'll bet there were a dozen crates of vodka and you were so passed out that you slept through an entire day to get rid of the hangover," Dougy grinned, a small fire of playfulness flashing in his eyes and touching his lips. "So tell me, any..._improvements _on the Hisoka front?" 

"I thought we weren't going to touch on that topic again," Illumi glared at him half-seriously, "If a man's smart, he knows a lost battle when he sees one and then picks himself up to pursue other channels that can also lead him to victory." 

"Hey hey, no need to pull that proverbial shite on me ok. But if you think about it, a real man gets revenge for crimes committed against him. Isn't that what you're helping me to do now? Once I oust the Prince of Slime, Mr Ego Incarnate, the Narcissist of Anime City, my revenge will be complete and a chapter in my life will close so that I can move on. You need closure Illumi - even if you do decide that you don't want Hisoka after you have him, you still want the satisfaction of knowing that you denied those horrible women what they wanted most." 

"That's disgusting!" Illumi's jaw hung open, wide eyes fixed on Dougy's cruel smile, "Have you ever considered Hisoka's feelings? Just because of revenge, I'll have to manipulate them to my own ends, and if I don't want him in the end, dump him and leave his heart in pieces?!" Illumi dramatically pushed up against the back of his chair as if he wanted to create more distance between himself and the calm, unruffled man seated opposite him. 

"I know you're capable Illumi-san," Dougy sang, twitching his index finger in his face, "and come to think of it, hasn't Hisoka been rotten to you as well? Might as well shatter his hope to pieces and then grind them into the ground with your boot for a good measure." 

"Ok - too many thoughts of revenge today for you Dougy. No more - that cruel streak doesn't suit the new you and it's going to scare the girls. Get rid of it. Now." 

Dougy pressed the back of his hand against his forehead and cried out aloud in hurt for the whole restaurant to hear, "Oh, you do not heed the advice of your only friend Illumi. I'm injured by your words, stung by your rejection. Oh my thorny rose, my venomous beauty, thou art an ice maiden indeed!" 

That finally did it. The eternal gloom that clung to Illumi like a sickness that could not be washed off had finally lifted with his bout of unusual melodrama. The more he looked at Illumi, the more he found a sweet young man not to be entirely innocent or vulnerable, but still with his fair share of fatal weaknesses. 

Illumi started, aware of the stares from all the people and he forgot about being depressed, too occupied by the desire to run away from the uncomfortable atmosphere. He threw down some bills and grabbed Dougy Cameron by the arm, literally man-handling him out of the coffeehouse and out onto the streets of Anime City. His legs took him down three blocks and he didn't stop running until he realized that the scenery was entirely different and that he was now on the outskirts of the central Park with Dougy wheezing behind him, eyes wide and bulging. 

The blue-haired man leaned on a railing, legs shaking and about to give way, lungs about to burst out of his chest as he gulped in mouthful after mouthful of sweet air. 

"Jesus Illumi! We must have run a mile in less than four minutes just then!" he exclaimed in wonder of his surroundings. "Why the big reaction?" 

Illumi mumbled something which sounded a lot like "I don't appreciate attention," but turned and headed deeper down the track into the park and the engulfing darkness. The gravel crunched eerily loudly beneath their feet and Dougy became slightly nervous at the way the shadows and dark patches were constantly shifting. In the night, he could hear the most infinitesimal sound - leaves rustling, the branches knocking against each other, the whooshing of the wind and the darting of small creatures and insects. 

"Um...Illumi, I really think that we should - " turn tail and run back to civilization was what Dougy had wanted to say, but he was cut off by the vision of moonlight hitting the shimmering surface of the silver lake. Wow, he thought, I never knew that this place was so... 

"Enchanting," Illumi finished for him and headed towards the small bridge. "I don't think many people know about this place because there're too many other distractions in Anime City for them to understand and appreciate the more simple things in life." 

Dougy wasn't listening, "A good place to make a proposal," he mused, lightly testing the handrail for any signs of stinging coldness before wrapping his hand around it. 

And suddenly, the echoes of owls hooting and the howl of some dog didn't seem so frightening after all. Dougy frantically studied his surroundings, realizing just how desolate the park really could be at night. An idea hit him. 

"You know what Illumi, I think you're a coward - you can't face Hisoka, just as you can't face a handful of men and women staring at you in a coffee house. As much as I admire your skills of avoidance, some things cannot be avoided." 

A force struck him on the chest with more impact than he realized and the sweet air that he had gulped down mere minutes ago was forced out. The rough ground dug into his back, the thin and flimsy material of his silk shirt unable to offer much protection as he lost his balance and fell backwards. His vision swam as he banged the back of his head violently on the concrete and for that he was glad he was unable to see the terrible anger on Illumi's face. 

The lighter man possessed an incredible strength beneath that deceptively wraith-like body. Dougy was straddled; his chest struggled to rise under the man's weight and his wrists were pinned above his head. Alarm bells rang so loudly in his mind that he couldn't hear the sensible voice trying to talk about the steps of getting out of this situation alive. 

"Please...don't rape me," was all he managed to wheeze with his eyes clenched and body taunt. He could feel Illumi's hot breath on his face and he mentally crossed himself for the violation. 

Illumi was still for a moment, breathing harshly with Dougy fixed beneath him. The latter did not struggle and lay there stiffly, trembling now and then and flinching at his breath on his face. Fear, to be able to taste and relish on fear was the most intoxicating experience of all. For a fraction of a second, he had the terrible urge to hurt Dougy and see the fear fever bright in those eyes. 

But the second passed and Illumi sighed, hopping back onto his feet and pulling the dazed man with him. 

"Sorry," he managed to mumble but wouldn't meet Dougy's gaze. He fixed his inky black eyes on the shimmering surface of the artificial lake, hypnotized by the small ripples on the surface. He felt an understanding hand clap onto his shoulder and felt the other man step closer to him. 

"I take it that I struck some chord," Dougy drawled, his arm now casually slung across Illumi's shoulders. "So, want to talk about it? Or would you knife me if I probed further?" 

His partner shook his head, "No, I won't knife you, gees, you think that of me?" 

"That look on your face just then suggested that you pulling a knife on me was a very real possibility." Dougy noted sourly, his free hand rubbing the back of his head that was still smarting from the pain. 

Illumi turned to face him and Dougy only realized that their faces were only mere centimeters apart. In this clearly ambiguous situation, Dougy would have liked to back away but he saw something in Illumi's eyes. Naked steel? Raw ambition? Dreaded loneliness? Empty sadness? 

Dougy had to break off the staring match after a minute with a defeated sigh as he let his sore gaze wander back over to the calm waters. He pulled Illumi closer to him still in the companionable sort of way and sighed exaggeratedly. 

"I'm no mind reader Illumi and you're too complex to allow me to profile. I thought you were Mephisto incarnate when you made the deal with me back in my old apartment. If I weren't so desperate, I may well have thrown you out and continued to live in squalor rather than sell my soul. 

"But now, I see you as just another hurt man licking his wounds and scared of whatever has hurt him but still brave enough to find other ways to make your dreams come true. Was it Hisoka? Or your female co-workers? Or is it something else altogether? The mind works in extraordinary ways Illumi, and your past experiences drastically impact on your character. We've been together for a month now Illumi, yet I don't have an inkling as to what your past is to create the man standing beside me and that frightens me because I've never met someone as unreadable as you. 

"Be my friend Illumi, and tell me about yourself." 

"_And what would you do with this information?_" 

"Why, be a bit more sensitive in my choice of words next time so that you won't try to stick a knife between my ribs or smash my face in." Dougy winked, his silver tipped fringe likewise glinting in the wane moonlight. 

"_That's all? You won't use to it discover my weaknesses and plot my downfall?_" 

"Why should I? We're in the same boat heading towards the same objectives. Anime City rejected us and tried to exile us, but the harder they try, the more determined we are to stay and piss the people off, doubly so for those who don't want to see us." 

"_Revenge brings all sorts of people together, no?_" 

Dougy gave a bitter chuckle, "I guess it does." 

"_Revenge is also the reason I exist. Once my purpose is fulfilled, I will fade into the background and lie dormant until necessity beckons me once more._" 

"So..." Dougy worked his jaw and thought hard about how to phrase his question, "do I still call you Illumi?" 

"_I am Illumi."_

"Then what's with all this fading into the background business?" 

"_I am Illumi. Right now, I'm currently exhibiting the extremes of what I'm capable of doing. When necessity says that I must damn my soul to fulfil an objective, I'm the personification of the capability to do what needs to be done. Most people never find this extremity, but then, I'm just a development of circumstance._" 

"So why do your female co-workers harass you? If you sound as capable as you profess to be, shouldn't you be doing something to alleviate your miserable position at Hunter Works?" 

"_I could, Dougy, very easily too. But know that I'm geared towards achievement and achievement for myself only. I know nothing else - humanity and compassion are foreign to me; I see friendship as something more worthless than the slime in the sewers unless it will aid me in achieving my objective. Mark my words - I will be able to get anything I want in the most expeditious way, but that - _" 

"Is often the most lonely path," Dougy finished in understanding. 

"_No, don't think of me like that. I don't understand pity and I can't appreciate it. And because I don't appreciate human feelings other than to manipulate them for my own ends, there is one gift that I cannot get this time._" 

"Friendship and acceptance." 

"_Yes - I could buy that, or obtain it by fraud and deception. But the immutable laws of the universe deem that friendship built on anything less than genuine sincerity won't last, and I know everything but that. I have never had to make real friends before._" 

"You are geared more towards destruction I see," Dougy commented lightly with a small smile on his face, hoping that Illumi would see the brighter side of his joke. Thankfully, he gave a small laugh. 

_"You're right. My qualities cannot build lasting relationships. Destructive...is a way to describe me I guess."_ he gazed a little gloomily at Dougy, _"My life is changing, changing in ways which signal my end because humans were never meant to discover their streak of ruthlessness, let alone act on them. And because of that, I am scared. I don't want to end."_

Dougy studied Illumi under the artificial glow of the street lamps as they traced their way through the park towards the main road and open streets. Now that he understood, perhaps only a little better, who Illumi could be, this other side of him was not so terrifying after all. 

_Man only fears what he doesn't understand..._

He presented his designer a small, pressed smile and slowly slipped his arm around the latter's slim shoulders again. At first, it felt like he was approaching a wary and cautious animal whose fangs were barely concealed - much like moving into a new neighbourhood and the neighbour had a large dog trained to be aggressive to strangers. By the time they were out onto the streets, Dougy felt much more relaxed and he and Illumi were trading jokes and laughs. The raw harshness in his voice had ebbed away and it was now light and slightly melodious, pleasing to hear. 

They weren't walking in any specific direction, more or less wandering around enjoying each other's company. Perhaps we could go to the coffeehouse again and see if I can pick up the blonde chick who deliberately turned her nose at me, Dougy thought with some relish. Integral Hellsing, hanging around with her snobby and tight-assed friends, girls notorious for being the biggest and nastiest gossips in town. She might have heard about his past by now, or perhaps her friends didn't recognize him in his new outfit. 

"I don't know how many times you're going to hear this Illumi-san, but I love the hair. It's a bloody classic." 

The big, black feline eyes silently moved over to those glowing silver tips and he nodded. 

"I needed this change Illumi; for me to walk these streets again like a respectable human being. Life is not constant you know, and change is not such a bad thing. You shouldn't be afraid of becoming a new person." 

"I don't want to become a new person," Illumi said bleakly, "I just want to be _me_. All my life, I've had to put on one act after another that somewhere along the way, _I_ just disappeared amongst the many, many masks I'm capable of creating." 

It took some time before Dougy could come up with a reasonable reply. "Just give yourself some time. If you consciously go about trying to 'be' you, it'll never work. Just act as your fancy takes you, respond as you will and if you're angry, show it; if you're happy, laugh; if you're upset, cry; if you're pissed off, throw a good punch." 

"If it could only be so simple." 

Dougy made a wry face, "Yeah, but if someone is really shitting you, deck them like you did with Darien." 

"Oh don't remind me," Illumi groaned, burying his face in his hands, "my mother accosted me the moment I came back from my first shoot ever and demanded to know what the hell I was thinking when I planted my fist in that creep's face. Once again, she's been mislead by Anime City's newspapers." 

"I'm just surprised that old Drosgen hasn't called the police or served you a writ yet. It's very unlike him to let these things get by him," Dougy's wry face deepened and he sniffed, "unless he's getting senile of course." 

"Yeah," came the half-hearted response. 

"I know ever since last month, Meryl Strife's popularity has soared. I managed to acquire a copy of Hanzo's anthology of newspaper clippings (the Perfect Edition) and even sent her a thank you card myself. I assume she's being swamped daily by batches of roses from men, and cards from women who've been victims to Darien's philandering. I'm thinking that the men will probably present you with a life size bronze statue in the next few days and plant it in the exact spot where Drosgen was downed." 

Illumi passed him something small, a slip of paper that he couldn't' make out in the dark. When they stopped by the next street lamp, Dougy scrunched up his eyes to scrutinize the contents, then oogled. 

"There's a much bigger version hanging in the cafe of Hunter Works. I'll show you on Monday - Hanzo developed it in black and white for the 'sense of nostalgia', and we all chipped in to buy a nice, brass frame." 

"_Illumi! This is a bloody classic! You could auction this and easily get over two million for it!"_

He handed the small photo back to Illumi and watched him neatly tuck it back into his wallet. "It belongs to Hanzo - he took the picture, so I guess it's up to him to decide what he wants to do with it. I think he wants to put it on public display without admission, for the public good sort of thinking." 

"A very public good." Dougy said, his grin stretched from one ear to the other. He gave Illumi's shoulder a small squeeze and they continued walking towards Elysian. Dougy recognized where he was now, and he mischievously noted that the coffeehouse was very near by. There _was_ this piece of Bavarian chocolate that he wanted to try... 

"ILLU!" 

Dougy snapped awake out of his complacency and his eyes darted around the streets, ears alert to the loud shout. Dim shades of grey and black flashed through his vision until it finally detected a beacon of...aqua? 

"Hisoka? That you? Dye you hair _again?_" he exclaimed, veering Illumi around to meet the man. The magician couldn't hide his own surprise at Dougy's arm around Illumi. Dougy thought that he saw a spark of ire in Hisoka being brutally suppressed. He tsked, but not loud enough even for Illumi beside him to hear. 

This was going to be fun. 

He pulled Illumi even closer to him to confirm his suspicions. When Hisoka's hurried steps towards him carried overtones of agitation and annoyance, Dougy knew _exactly_ what he had to do. 

"Well a good evening to you too Hisoka," he drawled, mercilessly letting his arm drop to Illumi's slender waist (to the latter's unease, which he thankfully did not show on his placid face), "Now what makes you go around shouting people's names in the middle of the night without a single regard to good citizens who might be tucking into bed already?" 

Dougy kept his cool when the magician stalked right past him and made to snatch Illumi from his arms. 

_Not yet Hisoka; not so easy._

He placed himself in front of Illumi at the last minute and shook Hisoka's extended hand instead, his action signifying nothing less than a full-on challenge. 

"Haven't seen you in a long time Hisoka; don't you have anything to say to an old friend?" 

That did it. The magician's eyes finally deigned to rest on his face and he almost wanted to burst aloud with laughter at Hisoka's shock and amazement. The magician backed away from the pair, unable to believe his eyes and he even rubbed them for a good measure. 

"_Cameron?!_ Oh my - " he shook his head slowly from left to right, continuously retreating. 

"Watch for the cars Hisoka," Illumi frowned, slipping out of Dougy's grasp and pulling his co-actor from the road that he had stumbled onto. Hisoka mutely turned to Illumi, desperately twining his fingers with the latter for some sign of understanding. 

"Don't react like you've seen a ghost Hisoka," Dougy now said irritably, eyes steadily fixed on those entangled fingers, "I just got a new haircut, that's all." 

That did it. With a little bait, which Hisoka instantly took up, his self-control slapped over his numbed shock and he was his cuttingly arrogant self again. Hisoka took another step forward, closing the gap between Dougy and himself and put on a haughty smirk. 

"Well Cameron, I'm glad that you're ready to join society once more. I was worried about you." 

You were so worried that you never called, Dougy wanted to add but he bit his tongue. He savagely forced his past to one side and made himself look right into Hisoka's eyes. 

"Well yes, I'm going to hit the catwalks when Summer is over. Illumi has seen to that entirely. I'm going to be a star again." 

Hisoka's jaw dropped. "Illu?" 

"Why Hisoka, even _I_ don't get to call him that. Is this a special privilege available only to flat-mates?" Again, he deliberately let his eyes fall down to their hands and raised on questioning eyebrow. Hisoka noticed and quickly disentangled himself from Illumi, flustering about for an excuse. Had they all met under different circumstances, Dougy would have thought the scene in front of him was cute. 

_But today Hisoka, I'm going to teach you that you should cherish something without having to lose it before you recognize your grief. You don't have to thank me; I owe this to Illumi._

Without giving Hisoka a chance to recover, he beckoned Illumi back to him (giving him a barely perceptible wink of mischief) and smiled hugely. 

"So Hisoka, what do you want? _Illu_ and I have places to be and things to do as well." 

The magician gaped, then shivered into shocked which gradually twisted into anger. 

"Emergency meeting. Kuroro has invited Illumi and I to discuss how we're going to deal with his dad. Once old Roderick can meet up with the Director to discuss the incident last week, Illu is as good as dead." 

Illumi shared a smile with Dougy, "It looks like he hasn't gone senile after all, just waiting for Silva to come back from location. This can't be happening to me again - I don't want to make the newspapers anymore." 

"Hark who's talking. You're always asking me to do something outrageous to get attention and here you - !! - _why didn't I think of it sooner?!_" 

"Think of what?" Hisoka asked sharply, taking the chance to pull Illumi away from him, much to his landlord's annoyance. Illumi was starting to feel like he was being tossed around like a rag doll that no one wanted to touch. He could have struggled in Hisoka's grip but decided that it wasn't worth the effort. Rather, he gave the magician an irritated grimace and then wondered what suddenly got Dougy so excited. 

"Lets go and talk in someplace private. I've just been hit with the most brilliant plan that's beneficial for me and can resolve dear Illu's problem as well." 

Hisoka gave Cameron a scathing sneer, one intended to discredit and ridicule any idea. "If you hadn't interrupted, I was about to take Illumi to the meeting place where quite a few other conspirators have gathered and - what now?" his cell phone rang at the most inopportune time, interrupting a conversation that Hisoka thought was rather important. 

"Yes?.....Sure, I don't mind her there so what's the deal?..." 

After a few more 'uh-huh's' and 'all right' and the dejected groan, Hisoka's shoulders slumped when the phone ended and much of his energetic fervour had drained away. 

"Looks like this emergency meeting's agenda has been changed and apparently I'm in the thick of it. Want to come along and listen Illu? We're calling pizza for supper." 

_They don't even realize that they're holding hands again,_ Dougy turned away trying to hide the amused grin he knew he couldn't get rid of, _It looks like I don't have to work as hard as I thought to get this little message across._

"You guys go ahead then," he feigned a casual rejection in his voice that was intended to be half playful, "there's this girl who snubbed me at the coffee house before and I'm determined to exercise my new powers of attraction and see if I can pick her up tonight." 

He made sure that he was already well in motion and at least five paces away before the pair could respond and he silently congratulated himself. Acting skills were still top notch and hadn't dulled during his years of internal exile. 

Life was currently pretty damn good. And now - to get back at his arch nemesis: Darien von Drosgen.   
  
  


* * * * 

Illumi acquiesced to Hisoka's suggestion and soon found himself trailing behind the magician who was curiously silent throughout the journey. He rubbed his forehead; this was idiotic - one moment Hisoka acted like he owned him and now he was presenting him with his cold, hard back. _He must still be feeling awkward about the little fight_ Illumi solemnly concluded, his inattentiveness nearly causing him to hit a pole. Hisoka stopped him just in time and made a small noise of exasperation. 

"Can't I let you walk without having to hold your hand?" he humphed, holding his hand again for the third time that night and dragged him down the quieter parts of suburbia. Hisoka was avoiding the main road, but Illumi couldn't help but notice that he was being led in the direction of the west. 

"And we're going back to our place - security's top notch there so we won't have any unexpected visitors," Hisoka began to explain, picking up on his thoughts, "Kuroro thought this little meeting was a good idea, I couldn't agree more. Wing was the first to be invited - he's a smart man, only that he doesn't want to show it. Hanzo and Paku have their invaluable intelligence network and Legato has been invited too - he's one of the best positioned actors in the Ex Club who also happens to despise the slimy worm." 

"I sense a big 'but' coming - please spare me the suspense." 

Hisoka turned around, irritation just about to ooze from his pores. Illumi wondered if the magician was just particularly touchy tonight. 

"You're quite right," he said through clenched teeth, "Legato has bought Machi along, which is ok, but his supposedly non-existent other sister is with him too. Leona has come out of Northside." 

Illumi waited for a full minute, expectantly waiting for Hisoka to finish but was only met by silence. He gave his own agitated sigh. 

"I'm sorry, but was I supposed to see any significance in the last bit of information?" 

"My cousin is Leona's boyfriend. They were all part of SNK; the studio was stuck by madness and their last project was never completed as some of the actors lost control." Hisoka let out a shuddering breath, steeling himself to continue. "Iori, my cousin, was at the head of the mess, leading the rebels. He was the first to break his contract and run into Northside and then a handful of other actors joined him. The story is that it was all the drugs and partying and alcohol, substance abuse because they couldn't handle their sudden rise to fame." 

_A lot like you actually_, Illumi thought but had enough sense not to say aloud. The magician sounded sincere for once, like he was actually troubled and hurt, deviating far from his usual flippant and arrogant character for Illumi's liking. Mildly troubled by this change, Illumi trotted faster and kept his pace beside Hisoka. 

"My aunt means a lot to me, and I owe a lot to her. Iori's almost like a younger brother because we both grew up together. It's my fault he turned bad - if he didn't have such a worthless cousin who set such a bad example, he would be famous by now and his face plastered on every billboard." Illumi inaudibly gulped at the pain as Hisoka's hand around his pitilessly clenched tighter and tighter. The magician didn't notice his discomfort, too caught up in his own guilt. "I was the one who let him stray too far and lost him to the shadows. I just _had_ to get into a fight with my aunt over petty, _petty_ matters and move out so that I couldn't keep an eye on him anymore - " 

"_Each human has his own consciousness and free will. In the end, his choices and actions are his and his alone and he can blame no one for any ill or misfortune that befalls him._" 

Hisoka turned on him so fast that Illumi had no time to jump back and adopt a defensive position. He heard something crack, perhaps his fingers crushed in Hisoka's hand, or maybe Hisoka's sanity giving way. But Illumi fearlessly and infuriatingly calmly gazed back into Hisoka's furious face and his unshakable calm alone caused Hisoka to doubt many things. 

"_Stop berating yourself over something you had no control. If Iori was three, then yes, you deserve a good lashing with a cane - _I'd_ give you the lashing myself. But we're talking about a grown man here, a man who has a mind of his own. It's always easy to blame the world and everything it holds for all your failings and problems when the real cause is actually yourself._" 

Illumi cocked his head to one side and smirked at Hisoka's stunned expression. 

"_What? You expect me to pity your cousin? Feel sorry for his current predicament - one which you believe he wouldn't have fallen into had you been around? Don't think so highly of yourself Hisoka. Like you could compete with an individual's stubborn will._" 

"If this is your way of comforting me, I advise you that you're going about it in the very wrong way," Hisoka growled, abandoning the fight and reverting to him at the front pulling Illumi along like a mother with her disobedient child. "True, I might not have been able to control the way Iori thinks and acts, but I think I could have easily had a hand in controlling the people he comes into contact with." 

Hisoka suspiciously glanced behind him once more to see if Illumi had anything else to add but the black-haired man innocently shook his head. 

"I don't think SNK's corruption was natural at all. I think it was a deliberate set-up or attack and Iori and his friends were the victimized pawns of some sick game going on all around them. They were blind to their own imminent destruction, caught in a web that they couldn't see and someone has used him, stripped him of his dignity and reputation and screwed with his mind. If I ever find out who did this to him, I'm going to smash his face in, break his arms and legs and do _quite_ a jig on his ribs." 

They were at the entrance to Andelain Towers before Illumi pulled Hisoka to a halt, wrapped his arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. He finished with a warm hug and murmured quietly into his ear: "It's not your fault." 

Illumi had only ever comforted Karuto before and knew no other ways to console people other than to treat them like he would his little sister. He had done all he could and he steered Hisoka towards the gold and marble elevators.   
  
  


* * * * 

Kuroro nodded to Wing when the doorbell rang and the man wordlessly stood up to see who was at the door. When he gave Kuroro the thumbs up, Kuroro assented to the door being opened and Hisoka and Illumi strode in. He gestured for the new comers to take a seat on the chairs that had been positioned around the small coffee table in the living room as the couch had been dominated by other visitors already. 

There were two extra faces here tonight that Kuroro did not expect but with practiced ease, he put up his actor's mask of impassiveness and nodded as the gathering was complete. 

"Karasu and Lola came only five minutes ago. It seems that Legato has decided to invite them over to discuss a new and urgent matter," Kuroro immediately began when they were all seated. His eyes were lined with worry and his eye bags told of many fitful nights in which his dad constantly rang him up demanding answers. 

"Originally, I had convened this meeting to think of ways to deal with Darien's problem - " 

"Dougy's working on that already," Illumi supplied quietly, accepting the cup of tea that Hisoka poured for him. "Even if he didn't, I think I should deal with my own problems myself. I don't want to drag any other people down with me." 

"Kind thought, but if it's Darien and my dad teamed up, then we're all in this together. However, as I was saying, it's pretty clear that we have another matter to deal with, as you notice that Leona is once again a part of us." 

Everyone's eyes went to the woman who had Machi's trademark spunky blue hair but also had Legato's impressive height. Her hair looked like it had taken a good washing and was loosely tied back at the nape of the neck with a black ribbon. She wore a modest white shirt and a clean pair of dark blue jeans, demonstrating just how long and fine her legs have always been. 

"She's not a circus freak, so don't stare," Kuroro raised his voice once more, rounding the attention back to him. "Before we get to the details, I'll just give the brief summary: there has always been some rough and informal status quo in Northside with the various factions and gangs inside too preoccupied with locking horns against each other instead of taking over Anime City. The south of Northside shares a border with Anime City, and that's the area which concerns us the most. Incidentally, the southern area of Northside is also where Iori and other rebel actors have established their base." 

"It's more at the center of Northside now," Leona shifted uncomfortably on the leather couch, clearly unaccustomed to such luxuries, "we progressed towards the middle about six months ago after a winning a gang war and we just collect protection money from the south now." 

Machi shuddered at the thought of bloody fights and the lawless lifestyle that her elder sister had endured for two years. Her hand unconsciously went out to hold her sister's rough and harsh ones and gave her a reassuring squeeze. 

"Northside is ok, once you understand the unspoken laws - but whilst we fight and kill and commit robbery and murders, there's still a feeling that some crimes are just wrong. Miss Lola would know a lot about that." 

Karasu's wife stirred uncomfortably and didn't try to hide the fact that she was reluctant to be at the meeting. Her sapphire blue eyes narrowed and she exuded an aura of murder when Leona hinted at her shady past. The innocent knife that Lola was using to cut the pieces of fruit was suddenly out for blood. Karasu hastily pried the knife out of her hand. She ignored his actions and trained her disarming glare at the other Northsider seated opposite her. 

"If you must bring up my past affiliations against me, then I have nothing to say. My thieves guild had firm opinions about honour and integrity. We kill, we steal, we rob, but our targets are always strong and capable people, never helpless or defenceless. We won't touch anyone we consider to be innocent and unarmed children are not to be harmed. We fight, but we believe in fighting the fair fight between equally matched opponents. Any fight that does not meet this condition is shunned and we entertain no respect for person who emerges victorious." 

"In short, you pick on people your own size," Hisoka said, doing his best not to fidget in restlessness, "But how does this relate to my cousin?" 

"If anyone wants to be respected or admired in Northside, yes, you pick on anyone your own size. Anything less will earn your utter humiliation and disrespect." Lola crossed her arms and sank back into the couch with a condescending snarl on her face. "Let me guess, Iori has departed from this most basic principle?" 

No one could look Lola fully in the face when her expression became ruthlessly stony. Leona shied away from the heartless gaze but managed to squeak out a 'yes'. 

"So what kinds of actions are despised in Northside then?" Hanzo asked. 

"It's the same as the unspoken laws of jail: pedophiles are at the bottom of the food chain, followed closely by serial rapists, baby murderers and abusive husbands. Iori hasn't married yet, so that strikes out the last alternative, meaning that he's committed either pedophilia, started a brothel in Northside using women who have been kidnapped from their rightful homes and forced into the prostitution or he's into killing babies. Which is it?" 

Still unable to meet her gaze, Leona closed her eyes and shivered uncontrollably, "All of the above," she whispered. But Lola was unfazed; Her features hardened impossibly and she conducted herself like the executioner who was receiving her next order of victims. She was neither angry nor upset, distressed or repulsed - she merely took in Leona's words with horrifying calm and calculation. 

"So Iori's sunk to the lowest of the low," she spoke before Hisoka could get his word in, and one menacing and severe gaze from Karasu told the magician to let his wife extract all the crucial details first. "But that only means other gangs are going to get rid of him soon. It happens all the time in Northside - how's any of this my problem?" 

"I told you," Leona now defiantly met Lola's eyes, "I told you that I saw your brother with another woman talking to Iori before he went and did those crazy things!" 

Both Legato and Machi had to hold down their sister from grabbing the nearby plates and hurling them at Lola, who was still unperturbed and her dead eyes never let a shred of emotion show though. 

"_Salar's the one who drove Iori insane?!"_ Hisoka shouted, ripping himself away from Illumi's restraining hands and jumped straight at Lola. Karasu leapt out of his seat and tackled Hisoka mid way, violet eyes flashing with anger. He grappled Hisoka to a standstill, causing the cutlery on the coffee table to clatter as their knees knocked against it in the struggle. 

"Lola will wipe the floor with your face!" he roared at the magician, showing an uncharacteristic bout of emotional outburst, "I know you're angry - fuck Hisoka! I'm bloody angry too, but hear out the rest of the story first before you attack anyone! It _might_ be one misunderstanding!" 

"It was him!" Leona cried above Karasu's raised voice, "I know what I saw. It was the devil you call your brother who gave Iori all those ideas." 

"Leona, did you manage to catch any of the conversation?" Kuroro asked, playing the impartial judge in this argument. It had a limited calming effect in that at least everyone stopped what they were doing and waited for Leona's answer. 

"Well...no, I was too far off to hear..." 

"And were you equally as far off to mistake the person as my brother?" Lola said with unparalleled contempt. 

Leona gritted her teeth, "No, I saw very clearly and besides, I've never met Karasu or Salar before yet I instantly thought your husband was him!" 

"All I know is," Lola continued as if Leona never spoke, "is that my brother has a lot of enemies in Northside and it certainly wouldn't surprise me if someone was pretending to be him to pass on more blame to a person already thoroughly disliked. Or, you could just be part of some devious plot to lure my brother back into Northside so that the gangs can ambush, and consequently kill him." 

Machi was clinging with all her strength to her tall sister, but the woman found a new source of energy from her rage. "I'm NOT part of any plan to get at someone I don't even know! I'm here because Iori is killing off those closest to him! He's gone insane and I have no place in Northside anymore! The man I saw. was. your. brother! That's all I can say." 

Lola was still unconvinced, not to mention slightly bored. "You still haven't given me concrete proof that it was Salar who drove your brother insane by merely talking to him. Your flimsy evidence does not sway me. Is this what I've cancelled my evening plans for? To listen to the insulting accusations of a woman who can't even place the right emphasis on the right syllables?" 

"Your thieves guild has the best information network in all of Northside," Leona whispered, too distraught to argue anymore. "You go and ask them if your brother has been running around in Northside and causing trouble. They would know." 

There was a long silence. 

"I can't," Lola finally sighed and turned to the window that gave generous view of Anime City's night lights. The lights were like sparkling pin pricks spread out below her in a glorious map of red, white and yellow. But far off to the north was a foreboding darkness that no light escaped from. Her old home, Northside. 

"I haven't gone back ever since I got married and had Kay." 

"If we find that it's Salar's pulling all the strings behind the curtains, then you can surely ask him to reverse the damage. We don't give up on actors in Anime City Lola, why don't you try?" Kuroro suggested, taking the middle path again. 

Lola's voice was testy when she finally spoke again, "You guys don't seem to understand that I'm no longer part of Northside. I gave up my mentor, my guild and all my guildmates to get married and I can't just rock up at headquarters after a decade and say: hullo, think you could spare some information? Gees - they see me as some sort of traitor already but aren't heartless enough to hunt me down, that's all." 

Hanzo and Wing had been busy whispering vehemently. The bald ninja gave Wing a nod and turned to Lola "Have you tried hacking into your guild's network? We've got Shalnark at Hunter Works who seems to treat firewalls as sponge cake." 

"Illumi's brother is also a computer expert," Hisoka automatically added. Illumi drew back on his seat in alarm, distressed that he was being dragged into a problem that didn't concern him in anyway, let alone drag his brother into it. Northsiders were scary, don't mess with them in any way. Full stop. 

Karasu still had more to say. "_Supposing _that this is all of Salar's handiwork, we're overly optimistic here to think about reversing any damage before we even know what has been done. Give us all the details Leona - I'm sure Hisoka also wants to hear what his cousin has been up to. If what Iori has done cannot be amended, then leave Lola out of this once and for all." 

So over tea and pizza and a few slices of fruit, everyone tuned in to a tail of horror and misery, about a man who was once ambitious and charismatic who met the wrong people and descended into the depths of insanity. They heard about a man who had adopted a taste for human blood and flesh, who had no qualms about profiting from human misery, and who had himself taken a cruel delight in human suffering. By the time Leona had finished talking about the trade in sex slaves, mugging children from the streets and the torture chambers that Iori had set up, Paku had run off to throw up whilst Kuroro and Illumi had to strap Hisoka down from trying to slit his own wrists. 

"He's breaking every rule and crossing every boundary," Leona's recounting of the tales of terror had reduced her once more to sobs, "as I left, I even heard him raving on about taking over Anime City. He fears nothing and is not afraid of sinking any lower. I....can you guys can do something about it?" 

"I could give the police a warning. Kanon's in charge of patrolling the northern tips of Fortune's Park so he should be able to keep a lookout for suspicious activity. Do we still need to consider the extent of Salar's involvement?" Kuroro gave every the questioning eyebrow. 

"Yes," Hisoka growled, "I _might_ have a score to settle with him, even if he can't clean up the mess." 

Everyone was sympathetic to Hisoka's current feelings, even Lola. She was the first to find some excuse to leave and Legato and his siblings quickly followed thereafter. Hanzo let Paku lean on him as she unsteadily wobbled out of the apartment and after a few more words with Kuroro, Wing also left. 

Kuroro regarded Hisoka in his volatile state, bound up in all of Illumi's measuring tapes. He would have felt more at ease if the magician gave off some expression of grief or anger, but ever since they tied him up, he put up his walls and allowed no one to look inside. 

Illumi sighed crossly as he tipped the last of the dirty plates into the dishwasher. He washed his hands, dried them, then stalked over to his CD player and plugged a CD in. **(**)**

"You're going to get some sleep tonight Hisoka, and in the morning, you're going to ring your aunt and tell her all that's happened. I'm not going to let you sit up all night festering unhealthy thoughts of pain and revenge." 

Hisoka bitterly glared at him, "And how are you going to make me sleep?" 

"You'd be surprised," Illumi coolly replied, taking a seat beside the magician and pulling his head into his lap to the latter's protest. 

"I leave Hisoka to you then. Don't let him do stupid things. He's a stupid man sometimes." Kuroro said as he left the apartment, soundlessly pulling the front door close behind him. He could still hear the melancholic melody, muffled slightly, but nonetheless rightly reflected everyone's mood that night. 

Illumi withdrew a small glass bottle from his pocket and eased some clear liquid onto his index fingers. A strong smell of eucalyptus hit Hisoka's nostrils. 

The lights around him dimmed until the entire apartment was dark and the only lights came from those outside. Illumi's lap was warm, and his fingers firmly worked away on either side of his temples rubbing small and sensuous circles that eased away the tension building up behind his eyes. He was being lulled into a sleep-inducing relaxation and he did not attempt to run away when he was untied. 

Illumi unbuttoned the rest of his shirt revealing his bare chest, faintly glowing a pale ivory in the moonlight. One hand glided over to his abdomen and likewise began to massage away the knot in his stomach. Hisoka sighed and closed his eyes, snuggling closer to the source of warmth. He felt Illumi's hot breath beside his ear. 

_"You have to prepare yourself,"_ he murmured. 

"Prepare myself for what?" he mumbled back, half asleep already. 

"_From Leona's account, your cousin has turned into a monster. He's no longer the young man you used to know. You have to brace yourself for the possibility that from this moment onwards, Iori could be killed by other gangs, or prepare to destroy him yourself."_

Hisoka couldn't summon the will the argue. His determination and steel eluded him as the music washed away his resistance and Illumi's ministrations on his body rendered it soft and inert. All he could do was weakly say "He's my cousin." 

"_No Hisoka. He's a monster."_

Two minutes later, Hisoka fell into the realm of nightmares but there was always a singular point of warmth and sanctuary that he could run to. He held tightly onto the small spark of light in the darkness and was determined not to let it go.   
  
  


* * * * 

Leona poked Machi to get her attention. Legato was driving and the two Bluesummers sisters sat at the back, brooding about the events of the evening. 

"Machi dear, that long haired man who came in with Hisoka - I've seen him in Northside before."   
  


* * *

**Author's note:**

**(**) **Access the piece here   
**Login address:** hunter_fiction@yahoo.com.au   
**Password:** hunterworks   
The piece is located here: www.naxos.com/scripts/newreleases/naxos_cat.asp?item_code=8.110827&memberID=95725   
It's **Symphony No. 3 in F-major, Op. 90 **by Brahms - **3rd movement (**Poco Allegretto**)**.   
A smartie to anyone who can tell me which anime also used this melody! 

**REPLIES**   
**DemonDeranged:** Hey! You get an award for being the first to notice something between Lola and Salar! And yeah - I kinda thought that Leona and Machi have similar hairstyles and all, so hey, another sibling!   
**Yukitsu:** Kay is Salar's son?! No no - Salar is single, not married and hates women. Kaery is **_Karasu_** and Lola's son...and Karasu is Salar's twin brother. But yeah, Kay is very intelligent, so people make a lot of comparisons between him and his uncle. Kay is brattish, but Salar is evil.   
  
  



	18. Chapter 18: The Darkness begins to gathe

**Hunter Works - by Yomi**

**Chapter 18**

**The Darkness begins to gather**

* * *

**Saturday, 11:30am, Andelain Towers**

Hisoka woke up with a start then cursed as he was blinded by the spears of sunlight stabbing into his eyes. Without the need to look at the clock, he knew that it had to be late morning, or even early afternoon. The first thought which popped into his mind was 'impossible'; he hadn't gotten drunk the night before so he wasn't trying to sleep off a hangover, nor was he partying hard either. Apart from these sorts of situations, he was, for a lack of eloquent words, a light sleeper and an early riser. 

"Get some more sleep," a voice above said and a soft hand firmly pulled his head back down into a pool of warmth. Someone was methodologically scratching him behind the ears, then massaging the tightened cords of muscle on his neck and Hisoka struggled to recall the events of the earlier nights before he drifted back into sleep from those wonderful sleep-inducing sensations. 

But his mind was screaming at him, yelling him to pull out of that magical comfort zone and deal with a pressing reality. And said pressing reality began to eat away the murky fog of slumber and flashes of people sitting on the couch, strained words, horrid expressions of hate and an incredible sense of urgency flooded through the flimsy barriers that had fought to contain it. His cousin Iori was neck deep in a shitload of trouble, and Hisoka was damned if he was going to spend another moment sleeping. 

"_No!"_ an incredibly violent hold pushed him back down seeking to drown him back into the depths of unconsciousness but this time he hit back, refusing to be beaten. He snapped his eyes open once more and aggressively twisted his body away from anything remotely warm, consequently landing butt first on the hard (not to mention chilling cold) marble ground. 

Illumi's lips were pursed into a tight grimace and his fine pale hands reached out to touch Hisoka's face. This time, he shirked away and scrambled messily onto his feet and placed himself so that there was a table between them. Illumi's frown deepened. 

"Now why do you have to do that," he reproachfully asked, already knowing the answer, "don't you want to have some more rest?" 

Illumi made to move forward, to broach the moat that was the coffee table between them, and to draw him back into the field of dreams. Hisoka frantically shook his head – he was needed here, awake and conscious, to deal with problems that wouldn't go away on its own. He had no time to escape from his responsibilities, nor did he wish to. His defensiveness was construed as a sign of challenge by the pale man standing opposite him whose passive scowl betrayed more determination and resolve than a soldier on a suicide mission. 

"I've got stuff to do today Illumi. I don't have time to sit about – don't come another step towards me! I'm warning you!" 

The black haired man instantly changed tack, withdrawing into his demure and vulnerable form. He took a light step back and sat down on the couch, patting the spot beside him. Illumi presented him with a small smile. 

"Why don't you come and take a seat Hisoka. There's no need to get angry or upset here, come, sit –" 

"ARGH! What kind of idiot do you take me for?!" he traced a wide circumference around his patiently seated landlord and made for the haven of his room, leaving the question of how Illumi managed to send him into the trancelike state of sleep aside for another day. He had a lock installed on his door right? He'd better have, otherwise he'd never leave be able to leave this apartment today and he counted so many things to do in his mind. 

Top priority – find Salar and knock out his teeth.   
  
Second priority – after Salar finishes coughing up blood, demand to know what he said to Iori. 

Third priority – having finished dancing on Salar's ribs because the latter is unlikely to talk, threaten to shave off his eyebrows. 

Fourth priority – proceed with other forms of excruciatingly painful torture. 

Oh yes, many things to do. 

"_Stay right where you are_," Illumi's cold voice stung his ears. The pale cream coloured door of his room was but a few mere centimeters from his nose yet his body refused to obey him and he felt an irrational anger well up, heating his cheeks. He glared at Illumi's impassive back and it reminded him just how cold and emotionless Illumi was capable of truly being. His fingers involuntarily crept up to finger his throat to caress non-existent markings that were only too fresh and emblazoned in his memory. 

The man on the couch turned and caught him massaging his neck and sighed. With the infinite grace of a cheetah stalking its prey, Illumi fluidly slid off the couch and was by the magician's side before he could protest. His soft, supple hands pulled reluctant ones towards him and only the slightest encouragement had Hisoka complying with Illumi's each and every whim. 

"I want to go out," he automatically protested before the latter could get a word in. Hisoka moved to the far end of the couch and placed a cushion between them, not bothering to hide his look of mistrust for those devilish hands. He redirected his attention back on the near expressionless face, and again noted Illumi's dissatisfaction in the way he pouted. 

"You were going to ring your aunt today and tell her about the situation," he began calmly with the professionalism of a troubled children's counsellor, "remember? I'm sure your aunt hasn't been able to contact your cousin ever since he turned…_feral_." 

Illumi spoke the last word with distaste; a man who had just sampled a glass of milk that had turned sour couldn't have put more disgust in his voice than Illumi had just done. Hisoka gripped Illumi's front shirt and shook him hard, a growl rumbling deeply in the base of his throat. He punched Illumi solid in the jaw, an unjustified blow containing all his pent up frustrations for the way the pale man had acted so aloof to the situation, for his unwillingness to get involved, for his damning lack of compassion and most of all, that blank face which revealed nothing or showed that he had nothing to feel. 

A thin line of blood trickled from Illumi's cut lip but his expression betrayed no hurt. Hisoka swore that his second punch was hard enough to knock out a molar or two yet the man didn't even twitch an eyebrow. 

Hurting Illumi wouldn't do Iori any good, wouldn't do his aunt any good and certainly wouldn't help him either. He let go of the crumpled front of Illumi's shirt and pulled the limp man to him, shaky fingers gingerly tracing the bruise that was beginning to swell. 

"Why are you on Salar's side?" he finally asked, surprising himself with the amount of acidic venom he managed to put into that name. 

Illumi leaned into his shoulder and mumbled into his shirt, "I'm not on anyone's side but I don't think confronting Salar about this will help either. We're talking about Northside Hisoka, a place that you and I have no hope of interfering with, despite your good intentions. Let's calm down and think of some more positive and constructive things, please?" 

Hisoka's eyes narrowed and Illumi felt the body stiffen beneath him and the arms which encircled him tighten like steel clamps. "Were you going to go out and see him and warn him in advance?" 

Illumi uttered an almost inaudible 'no' then leaned closer towards Hisoka to escape the crushing pressure of those arms. He felt the magician's chest sharply rise in a sudden intake of breath and he lazily looked up to see what was wrong. 

Just like the dream, the magician's thin lips were closing in, bearing down on his own and before he could draw back, they were hungrily locked in a passionate kiss. Illumi didn't know what he was thinking when his arms lifted on their own accord and firmly encircled Hisoka's neck and his body was gripped by an urge to grind his hips and press his body against the other man. He felt a large hand support the back of his head, roughly entwining the fingers through his black hair to push him closer still (if it were possible) for the deep, wet kiss. Illumi had to fight to pull back for a gulp of air before Hisoka reclaimed the lips and in doing so moved forward and with his body weight pressed the fragile figure against the couch. 

The doorbell rang at the most inopportune time. 

Both wanted to ignore what they just heard, too intent on concentrating on the sensation of gyrating their bodies against each other in the primal act of lust, the intoxicating scent of the other's sweat and the sweet melodies of the moans of pleasure. 

Why wouldn't that damn doorbell stop ringing? 

"I've got to get the door," Illumi panted, weakly trying to push Hisoka off. He sucked in a gasp and bit down on his lip as something hot and wet furiously teased a sensitive nerve on his neck and he arched his taunt body closer still, mutely sobbing for more. 

Then the pressure was instantly relieved and a cool air rushed in between them as Hisoka jumped up. He marched towards the door, kicking aside the innocent articles of furniture haplessly caught in his way. 

"What the fuck do you want!" he growled even before he saw who it was. Legato blinked his golden eyes owlishly at his friend – at his dishevelled hair, his crumpled and messy attire, his apparent display of murderous agitation, his sweaty brow and heaving chest and the tinge of pink in his cheeks. 

"I was going to get you to…um…if you'll let me live to tell the tale…see you aunt today to tell her all of what Lee said. So –" 

Legato flinched as Hisoka took one large stride out and slammed the door behind him. 

"Whatever. Lets go!"   
  
  
  


Legato stole a side glance at Hisoka (in particular his reddened ears) as they walked up Glamour Isle, heading towards Elysian. At the pace they were currently supposed to be 'walking' at, it didn't leave Legato with much patience or tolerance for his friend's erratic behaviour. He came to a stop, digging his fingers like a steep trap into Hisoka's shoulder and violently jerked him back to face him. The magician swung around, his dark face livid with rage, and stopped just short of throwing another punch at the blue haired man. 

"What is your damn problem this morning Hisoka?" Legato gave Hioska a shove back just to put some more space between them. "I get up today with the kind offer to be your moral support when you break the news to your aunt specifically in mind, and all I get is fucking ingratitude. Did you have another fight with your flat-mate or something?" 

Hisoka straightened up his jacket and ignored Legato, spun on his heels leaving his back to him and continued to walk away. 

"Don't you give me that attitude Hisoka! You're not going to your aunt's place looking and acting like that! You hear me!" Legato fumed, throwing his hands helplessly into the air then instantly broke into a run to catch up with the stupid man throwing perfectly good advice out the window. When another tap on the shoulder elicited no response nor the constant prodding in the back or a series of questions repeated like a broken tape recorder, Legato narrowed his golden eyes - an indication that he was concocting potions of mischief. 

Hisoka's knees buckled and he almost fell flat on his face as a weight suddenly slammed into his back. 

"YOU IDIOT BLUESUMMERS! GET OFF!" he roared, working himself up to a frenzied dance that heavily consisted of grunts and growls and the mad stamping of feet. Legato rode the bucking Hisoka like a rodeo champion and he grinned maliciously at Hisoka's futile struggles, squeezing the ribs tighter with his knees. 

"Got your attention now have I?" he taunted and snaked one arm across Hisoka's throat for a stronger hold whilst his other free hand went to cruelly twist Hisoka's red ear. "Now can I get some sense into your head or are you going to vent your animalistic behaviour some more?" 

"Wow," a soft and silky voice politely remarked behind the pair, much in the fashion of a civilized gentlemen commenting upon the bizarre wonders of nature at a zoo, "it's nice to see two men get along so well, or a little _too_ well shall we say?" 

Hisoka ceased his struggles and Legato let go of his ear as his horse spun around to bear down on the newcomer. 

"Now now," Dougy continued to tease, "I'm not interested in a threesome but I do have a question for you Hisoka. Did you just leave your apartment? Was _Illu_ still there when you left? I was supposed to have an appoin-er-_date_ with him today and I think I've been stood up." 

"_Cameron!_ Oh my god!" Legato hopped off Hisoka's back and dusted himself, his eyes never leaving Dougy's face, his charming smile _and the silver tipped fringe_. "What a makeover! I couldn't even recognize you with your new hairstyle and everything...found yourself a new manager?" 

Dougy's grin broadened, with the magnificence of the sun rising at the crack of dawn and Hisoka's contorted features gave it the relish of victory. "Why yes, _Illu_ is my manager and designer now. He and I have a _very_ good working relationship. I must say we spend a lot of time together and have become _real _close - that's why he can be so frank and direct with me about my new look and image. What's this Hisoka? Why are you glaring at me now - oh, you can't be seriously be jealous of me already are you? You've got your Hunter studio and Hunter x Hunter series coming up in winter which is going to catapult you to fame and glory. You could well go beyond the heights I achieved in my peak." 

Hisoka relented in his unwavering glare by rolling his eyes but he glanced away, unable to trust himself not to kill Dougy with his patented look-of-death since his volatile emotions were running amok and without restraint this morning. The presence of Dougy Cameron only made it worse - not that he had an open dislike for the man or anything (everyone had unanimously agreed that Darien von Drosgen was the Prince of Slime who ruined him, therefore he deserved sympathy) but ever since discovering the 'working relationship' Dougy shared with Illumi, a steady batter of unhealthy emotions began to cook in Hisoka's mind. The way Dougy purred on the word '_Illu'_ irked him like an undeserved slap on the face. 

There was no other possible explanation for Dougy's attachment to Illumi - the slender aqua haired man was using Illumi for his own gain and Cameron was ambitious enough to sink so low. Of course, it was understandable given that he etched out new records in popularity and rendered new definitions to the word 'fame' - you'd want to taste such sweet and intoxicating success again regardless of method. Blinded by his insatiable ambition to rise to the top again, Dougy was probably the one working Illumi to sickness; he probably couldn't give a flying bag of bricks that Illumi was vanishing right in front of their eyes, wasting away as he abandoned his proper meals and dedicated himself completely to his work. Illumi had felt so fragile and delicate, vulnerable in his caress just minutes ago - the jutting collar bone, the ribs which he could count through the shirt, his once magnificent midnight black hair now dull and drab – someone had to pay for that. 

Hisoka sneered at Dougy, turning back to him with fresh confidence that could be heard in his voice. "Illumi says he's not feeling so well and wants to take the day off. _We_ are having dinner together tonight." 

"That's strange," Dougy's eyebrows immediately shot up and he tapped his pointed chin in thought, "because we had bought tickets to see _Cossi fan tutti_ tonight and had arranged this last -" 

Dougy couldn't really remember what happened afterwards. He got the impression that Hisoka and Legato did much of the talking thereafter when he banged the back of his head hard against a brick wall. The last thing he remembered clearly of that afternoon were a pair of eyes that were filled with madness, boring holes into his skull. 

The man who appeared from behind him, silently, stealthily with the professionalism of a natural born predator, caught Dougy off guard and shoved him against the red brick wall of the patisserie. Dougy gulped as a hand groped at his lower body. He flinched and whimpered like a frightened puppy. 

_Oh. Sweet and Compassionate. God! Am I really attracting ravenous gay people?_

"Hey!" Legato started to move forward. His hand was halfway up towards taking away the stranger's arm that had pinned Cameron to the wall before a look filled with murderous glee turned his bones to brittle ice. 

A stranger, about Hisoka's height, dressed from head to toe in a sharp, black, militaristic uniform had grabbed Dougy Cameron from behind and manhandled him in the blink of an eye before the two other actors could react. Even when they did have time to react, the naked and raw energies of destructive terror emanating from the man debilitated their courage, crippling them of their motivation to help. 

The stranger's eyes glittered with malice as his gaze lingered on Dougy's waist. He ripped the sparkling sash off and held the prize in his clawed hand up against the afternoon sun to watch it endlessly sparkle and glimmer on end. Faceted beads of aquamarine and blue zircon had been sewn in to form the magnificent brocade that felt as light as silk and as delicate as down. 

"Where did you get this?" he asked, voice thick with boundless desire. 

"Excuse me, but who the fuck are you?" Legato pulled the stunned and barely conscious Dougy, who was slumped against the brick wall still in his daze, behind him, "And how bloody dare you go ripping the clothes off people's back!" 

The stranger brushed some of his black fringe away from his eyes so that they could all better see just how much of a psychopath he was, and his lopsided smile thereafter sent shivers in places Legato didn't even know he had. The stranger was undeniably handsome with a roguish charm on his gaunt face and his sunken cheeks revealing high cheekbones gave him a dangerous glamour. To Legato right now, he looked more like a man starved of sanity and would kill to get it back. 

"I asked, where did you get this?" 

Legato mustered all his arrogance and put on his calmest, most condescending face which silently called you 'peasant', "And _I _asked, who the fuck are you." 

The man cocked his head to one side and pressed his blood red lips together in a line of amusement. "You act like Salar. Are you his protégé as well?" 

Mentioning Salar's name apparently had adverse effects on Hisoka. The magician pushed Legato aside to confront the stranger and stuck his nose in his face with a firm intentions of saying a piece of his mind before the man's mad laughter of delight robbed him of speech and placed the fear of god in him. 

He, Hisoka, the master duelist in Code Duello, was trembling like a bullied schoolboy because he heard a madman laugh. _If there is a God,_ he prayed, _please deliver me from this fiend for the good of my eternal soul. I admit that it's not the purest, but it's not the most corrupt either._

The man took initiative and placed the fatal step forward, forcing Hisoka to mutely back down. The stranger made a small noise of disappointment. 

"So actors at Anime City aren't such hot shots after all; they just have big mouths and talk big. So, can either of you statues answer me? Who made this? Or give me the maker's number so I can buy the exclusive right to own this." 

Legato swallowed. "How do you know Salar?" 

The stranger sighed in exasperation and placed his hands on his hips. "Will you tell me if I tell you then?" On Legato's nod, he continued, ripping a black square piece of cloth from his breast pocket to reveal the stunning silver stitched emblem of Vallanor – a serpentine dragon entwined on a pair of crossed swords on a shielded background. 

"I'm General Salar's Marshall," he announced and folded his arms across his chest, "Marshall Misha. So – what about my question then? Gimme the damn name of the maker, or do I have to gut you to get it?" 

It would take Hisoka two months to fully forgive Legato for disclosing Illumi's name and details to a lunatic who was also hatefully a Vallan. The purity of the silver embroidery on the emblem made Hisoka's blood boil way past natural boiling point resulting in of course steam to shoot out of his ears and nostrils. 

Misha scribbled down the information on a scrap piece of paper though he was undeniably fascinated by the teal haired man's reactions to Salar's name. He inwardly laughed again, a harsh and dark sound. How was it that he had become a Vallan anyway, but for the irresistible, irrefutable coercion and enticement that Salar was capable of giving? Misha considered himself lucky – he was disturbed and unbalanced and thus Salar gave him much greater leeway in his actions and pardoned his more minor transgressions than he would with others. Others being people like his (closer than comfortable) protégé Kurei. Sure, Kurei _might_ inherit Salar's Generalship one day, or at least share in his power, but his road and its destination was unenviable. 

Being in the same room as Salar was bad enough – the man and his damn ice-blue eyes could pierce your soul and make it bleed, even past the choking fog of madness you throw up as a defence. To touch him – to have to serve him and gradually mould yourself to be like him….unenviable was definitely an unfair understatement to make. Had you subscribed to Buddhist philosophies of karma and retribution or reward from one life to the next, to have to end up in a position where you were constantly within close proximity of Salar made for a very graphic and telling novel. Kurei had either been a mass murderer and rapist for his past ten lives, hence Buddha landed him this unappealing gig to be Salar's protégé or Kurei had been a catholic pedophile for his past ten lives hence Buddha landed him this unappealing gig to be Salar's protégé. 

That was not to say that Salar didn't give his people benefits. Kurei was a street rat, dirty, rough and undisciplined. And look who he was now: the strongest chick magnet Anime City hadn't seen for a decade. Girls would drop to their knees and beg for his hand in marriage and he was the perfect boy to bring home to your mother. Salar sharpened his mind and trained his body and the rungs of success were now that much easier to climb. 

As for himself – he had his joys on the job. Salar was going to go places beyond his wildest imagination, and he invited anyone willing to join him. Whether it be up to the heavens or down to the deepest caverns of the earth, farther than the depths of Hell, Misha would follow him. Salar would deny it, but they shared a lot in common, so much that it sometimes frightened him. What could he say in his own defence? That he had more humanity and compassion than Salar? When he was in a good mood, perhaps, and when he was not, he never found Salar's orders questionable. 

After pocketing the details of one Mr. Illumi Zoldick (who lived in Andelain Towers – Salar's building; must be a potential recruit then), Misha fixed on his most innocent expression and slowly lifted the corners of his lips. 

"You gentlemen mind if I ask how _you_ know Salar?" 

The teal haired man snorted and turned away whilst his golden eyed friend coughed to clear his throat. "We all grew up together here in Anime City." 

"Really now, that's interesting. I could never picture Salar in his youth – it's almost a disturbing idea that a man like him could even have had a childhood. Tell me, was it one filled with innocence or has he always been the diabolical, unscrupulous fiend that he is today?" 

Legato flinched at Misha's description of Salar and he shook his head. "No – we've found that Salar has changed ever since he's come back to Anime City. We might even have a bone to pick with him in fact." 

Misha had to laugh out loud at that, and his unsettling laughter caused the actors to break into cold sweat and the small voice in the back of their minds to desperately hammer the alarm bells and yell at them to run. 

"Get in line – there's a long queue of disgruntled people, lost people, broken people, people whose graves he's danced over, dead ghosts who all have some bone or another to pick with him," he flashed them a grin, "so, what'd he do to you guys?" 

The golden eyed man stared at him for a long time before caving in to some internal struggle. He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets, "We believe that he might have driven my friend's cousin insane." 

"And your friend's cousin's name?" 

"Iori Yagami." 

Misha tsked, racking his brains, "How long ago was this?" 

"About two years ago." This time it was Hisoka who replied but he still eyed the Marshall with reserve. 

"Sorry, can't help you out on that one. I was in Russia at the time and (praise be to the unseen external forces who sometimes show their good graces) barely had any time to speak with Salar." 

Legato cocked his head to one side, taken aback by the man's comments. "You mean you would have helped us if you could? You'd go against your General?" 

"Any day," Misha smiled brightly, showing off two rows of immaculate white teeth, "and any time to piss Salar off for the shitty workload that he assigns to me whilst his protégé gets to slack off. I swear that's blatant bias and nepotism, but don't you worry, I'll come up with ways to get back at him. I find that I can be quite creative when it comes to finding ways to rouse his ire." 

"I don't need his ire – that won't help. I want bloody answers." 

Misha cast him a pitying look, "A lot of people want answers, especially from him. If the other Generals could read the logic behind Salar's actions, half of them wouldn't be tearing their hair out and be suffering from premature balding now would they? But that's just who Salar is – despicable when he feels like it, secretive because he's a smug bastard and a damn braggart because he's a genius. Ah well, he can pull it off, but mortals like us have to bear the brunt of his peacock strutting." 

Hisoka growled out another few choice oaths and Misha patted his shoulder in a comradely fashion. "You keep up with the anger as long as you want if it makes you feel better and keeps the insanity at bay, but don't expect a drop of pity or information from him. He doesn't have it in him to feel sorry. I know – I'm his Marshall. On the other hand…for a free drink, we could find a café to sit down at and exchange much needed knowledge - " 

"You have nothing we want," Hisoka curtly interrupted and made to walk away but Legato held him back and confided in him. 

"Hold on a minute here Hisoka. Misha might not know about Iori, but we could get a _lot_ of information about Salar's modus operandi and glean the intentions and motivations behind his actions from that. It's worth a shot – seriously." 

Hisoka didn't want to agree – in fact, Legato's simple request felt more like asking him to get on all fours and crawl across a crackling path of burning hot coals that stretched for ten miles long. Legato turned back to Misha. 

"Ok, lets find a place to sit." 

Misha gestured uncertainly to Dougy, who was now pointing out to the birds grooming in the trees and laughing and imitating their movements. "You…er…want to bring your friend along?" 

"We better. He might start barking after number plates next."   
  
  
  


Gladdis' Café was never short on A list celebrities for lunch and weekends were no exception. Legato Bluesummers, along with Hisoka from Hunter Works and a demure but terribly good looking blue-haired man who they addressed as Dougy (_the_ Dougy Cameron?! the waitresses all excitedly gossiped amongst themselves) and another darkly alluring man called Misha sat in their back patio, basking in the afternoon sun over large glasses of ice chocolate. 

Misha sipped his drink and looked as eager as a boy on his first day of school. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table as he made his propositions. "I want to know Salar – I want to know about the real him, most preferably about his childhood stories. You want to know the Salar that I'm familiar with, what his goals and aspirations are, correct?" 

"More or less," Legato nodded, pedantically centering his tall glass on the placemat, "and in particular, what his plans are for Anime City." 

"Me first – tell me about the Salar you once knew. Say for example, has he always been the calculating, conniving cold bastard who would laugh even as children are decapitated around him?" 

"You have the most vivid way of describing character, don't you," Bluesummers frowned, physically feeling an urge to shy away, "but short answer no. I would have never described Salar as a cold bastard. He has the capacity to be calculating, because he was always too damn smart, but he was a nice enough guy. Like I said, too smart for everyone, hence was never really able to connect with us to be a real friend. 

It was Misha's turn to shy away with his nose delicately wrinkled as he sniffed. "Now you're making me uncomfortable. You saying he used to be an ok guy?" 

"As far as we knew, yes," Legato said, nodding slightly. "He turned up to most social functions, wore the right clothes, said the right things but you knew he only did that so he could look like he was fitting in. Half the time, I suspected that he never had fun with the women we invited, nor did he ever really get drunk at our birthday bashes." 

"_Have fun with women?! THE General Salar have fun with women!"_ Misha exclaimed, chortling with uncontrollable outrage despite the strange looks other patrons were stealing, "This is too much already. _Everyone_ at Vallanor knows how Salar _despises _women – hates the creatures like they were the waste of Satan himself and wouldn't go near those things even under Lord Vallissa's orders let alone try to _socialize_ with them. Gods – this is the juicy stuff I'm after – and _drink?_ Salar's too much of a bloody prune to touch alcohol; you've got to hear him lecture us on how insobriety ruins out judgment and abilities, bla bla bla! More! Gimme more!" 

Legato fidgeted with the sleeves of his jacket and hesitantly continued, "Has he ever mentioned that he has a brother by blood pact?" 

"Hell no!" 

"Ever heard him mention someone by the name of Lola?" 

Misha stroked his chin in thought, eyes wandering over the checkered table cloth, "'Lola' does seem to strike a chord. I'm thinking….computer department…security, firewalls?" 

"Yeah, Lola's on contract to maintain and protect Vallanor's computer systems." 

"Correct me if I'm wrong here," Misha shifted in his seat, bringing it forward as his voice dropped low, conspiratorial, "but isn't Lola a female name?" 

"It is." 

"So…" 

"Exactly – we have been just as confused as you ever since they announced it some twelve, thirteen years ago. Lola was Salar's other half (so to speak), the only person who actually looked like they were having fun around him. Then and again, Lola's got a bloody brilliant mind, otherwise Kaéry wouldn't be such a smart little bugger. She might have known what Salar was going on about." 

"Hold on a minute here. I have to get this straight, but you're saying that Salar _had a friend?_" 

"Oh, they were closer than friends. So close it made his real brother insecure that he married Lola just after he had turned twenty." 

"Real brother? Are we talking about Salar's _family_ now?" 

Legato leaned back in his seat and allowed himself the small opportunity to feast upon the newcomer's incredulity. "Why, didn't you know that Salar has a twin brother called Karasu? They are identical twins, down to the hairstyle that's two seasons out of date." 

He laughed out loud when Misha almost fell out of his seat and cracks began to appear in his glass of ice coffee because the latter had gripped the decanter so tightly. Misha breathlessly looked at him, trying to get the words out before they stumbled over each other. "There's actually another man, with _Salar's_ face? There is no god." 

"Now don't say that; Karasu is a perfectly good man and loyal husband. Just because he shares his brother's face doesn't mean he's Salar." 

"Revelation overload. The Salar you describe remotely resembles a human being with feelings. But in his youth, did Salar ever talk on endlessly about dominating the world or something along similar lines?" 

"Not at all. He was what we called a 'drifter' – had the brains but didn't know what to do with it. Didn't want to act, didn't have to go to University, played the stock market like he owned it so he never really had to work for money. Was a virtuoso with the cello but didn't develop the musical career either – nothing ever held his attention long enough. This leads me straight onto my question – what have you bastards done to Salar?" 

Misha steadily held eye contact and the thought of backing down never once crossed his mind. Inside him, the lull of challenge was beginning to gather force and Misha felt tingling sensations all over. 

"Strange question you ask Mr. Bluesummers, because I thought the General has always been the heartless iceberg that he is. I never knew he had a friend, dreaded the idea that he actually came from a family (that would make him appear too human - I'd prefer my version that he was born from a rock) and abhorred looking for alternative explanations. But your last comment was telling – nothing held his attention you say? In that case, I can start to understand why Vallanor holds such appeal for him." 

"You hit the nail right on the head – Salar wants to overrun Anime City, and it's not something he would do out of personal reasons. Who and what gave him the idea? No, _what_ can order Salar around?" 

Misha's face relaxed and he appeared calm, as calm as the ocean before the terrible storm that broke ships like matchsticks and drowned sailors as the waves continued to thrash in torment. His eyes that contained depthless insanity and lunacy lit up at Legato's question and he stretched his lips into an entirely humourless smile. 

"Lord Vallissa. Salar worships and adores the ground that our Lord treads. He will go to any lengths to please our Lord; and if you ask whether he demonstrated any signs of uncertainty when Lord Vallissa ordered that Elysian be destroyed and Anime City bought to the ground, the answer is 'no'." 

"Who is Lord Vallissa?" 

Misha's chuckle of bitterness, admiration, weariness and resignation would forever be imprinted upon Legato's mind. It was a sound that heralded an inevitable doom about to befall them and that there was no way to fight or escape it. 

"Lord Vallissa is perfect. It is only a matter of time before our Lord will bring all governments under the standard of Vallanor and unite it into one world order. And with Lord Vallissa at the top, the Six Generals of Vallanor will each be granted a sphere of influence – Salar's the youngest of the generals, only recently initiated, but he's fighting to have his share of the world. He's battling it out with the old Five, showing that he's made of the right stuff to rule the world as Lord Vallissa's right hand." 

"I still don't get it. How is any of this interesting, from Salar's perspective that is?" 

"Vallanor's goal is to create the perfect world. Lord Vallissa's infinite wisdom has allowed for the creation of Vallanor and the answer to all of humanity's problems. If Lord Vallissa can come up with the solution, doubtless Salar finds that the depth of our Lord's mind to be undyingly enlightening indeed." 

The sleek, silver mobile phone in Misha's pocket rang, and after a brusque and curt conversation, he turned to the three and sighed. 

"Got work, got to go. Thank you for the most insightful conversation. If I ever see you again, I'll treat you to a round of beer. A tip for you: I don't know Salar past his façade, if that is his façade and not his true nature, but if you have to know him, find his protégé, Kurei. That kid's the closest to Salar…but then, he's got some strange notions of loyalty. He probably won't answer any questions detrimental to any aspect of Salar, his persona or his work, but it's worth a shot. Right then, take care." 

Five minutes after Misha left, Dougy looked at Legato with amazing clarity in his eyes and remarked: "I've heard of Misha! He's a rock singer who's pretty big in Europe and Russia. I'll be he's trying to break into Anime City before he takes a crack at the other markets."   
  
  


* * * * 

**3 pm, _Luigi's Woodstove_**

All the other children had left, leaving only three more young boys rubbing bulging stomachs and smacking their lips. Kaéry shuffled closer to Xelan and leaned down to inspect his scratches and bruises. He gave a small frown. 

"I swear Xe, this game is certainly too rough on you. And I also swear that people are deliberately picking on you." 

"That's just your paranoia speaking Kay," Xelan pushed his friend's head away from his scabbing knees and stood up in the process. "Lets tip the waiters and go. My eyelids are starting to feel droopy." 

Kaéry nodded and picked up his schoolbag, declining Shura's offer to help him carry it. They paid Luigi and stepped out onto the streets feeling the shackles of tiredness clasped to their ankles as they tried to drag themselves home. 

Not Shura though – the older boy was fit and strong and hung a silly grin on his face whilst he watched the younger pair eye him with various degrees of envy and dislike. Compared to him, they were like wilted daisies dying under the harsh sun whereas he was a weed thriving on the death and decay of the others around him. 

"Stuff it Shura. We know," Prince Kay growled, almost caught out by a crack in the pavement. Cracks in the streets of Anime City – the town was running to the dogs, he thought darkly. Xelan fared no better and he hung back, limping along like an old, battered donkey on his last days. Kaéry threw Shura his schoolbag and went down on one knee, inviting Xelan to hop onto his back. 

Xelan dubiously studied Kay's exhausted features, "You sure?" 

"No Xe, you forced me into this and I'm going against my will." 

Xelan gave a small giggle and wrapped his arms around Kaéry's neck. Shura looked on, hiding the shakings of his head and keeping his mutterings to himself. Xelan was now bestowing one of his rare smiles on Kay, and the latter seemed to find his second wind as he hefted himself up (and his extra burden) on energetic feet and looked ready to conquer the world. 

"What plans do you two have for tonight then?" 

"Oh, we're going to seen an opera." 

Shura grimaced, "You like watching fat ladies sing?" 

"Yeah, the fat ladies are a pain, but they do have such wonderful voices." 

"Wonderful voices indeed," Kaéry concurred, "although dad says that aunty Mistress also is a very good singer herself – and she's no fat lady by far." 

"Why do all opera singers have to be so unattractive and so damn big?" 

Xelan sighed in sympathy. "It's probably to do with the fact that they need big lungs for all the running passages. Either how, we can grab you an extra seat and you can just shut your eyes and listen to the music," Xelan paused, musing on an idea that just came to his head, "but then you'll miss out on all the wonderful costumes that they parade on stage." 

"No thank you," Shura shuddered, slinging Kay's bag over his shoulder with his own, "I think I'll go home and warm down with some stretches, take a nice long bath and get my nose stuck into a book or something." 

"A bath sounds very good." 

Shura walked the pair back to Xelan's home, which was only a fifteen minute jog away from where he lived (ah, the days of Xelan stalking the streets inevitably made him victim number one). As they neared the white mansion, Kaéry suddenly stopped dead in his tracks and he deftly jumped into the shadow of a building at the corner of the street. He ducked his head around and his violet eyes glinted with awareness, studying a black Ford that he did not recognize pull up into Xelan's driveway A dainty figure elegantly alighted and tossed back a heavy mane of golden blonde hair followed by a man with sea green hair dressed in a casual denim jacket. 

The arms around Kaéry's throat began to threaten to choke him as Xelan bit back a gasp. 

"_How dare she bring him home!"_ he whispered into Kay's ear. Although a mere whisper which could have been stolen away by the slightest lift in the breeze, Kaéry could hear the strained tensions snapping under the pressure. He felt the soft cheek press into the crook of his neck and he knew that Xelan was trying extremely hard not to scream away his sanity. The young boy on his back trembled ever so slightly as he fought for self control, subduing his anger by replacing his expression with a cold, cold mask of indifference. 

Prince Kaéry's violet eyes darkened and although neither boy looked any different, Shura felt goosebumps quivering up his naked arms. 

"Come on Xe – we've got to face him some time or another. Are you ready?" 

He heard a pained sound, the sound of a dying animal alone and abandoned on the cruel fields of winter and Kay's heart broke into a million irreparable pieces. He fixed a stone cold gaze at the denim jacket and proceeded to walk towards Xelan's front door. 

Filia Metallium, now reverted back to her maiden name Ul Copt, visibly brightened as the three children approached. She hastened to link her arms around her new boyfriend and hooked the stray strands of hair behind her ears. But when they were close enough for Filia to see the odd twig still sticking out of Xelan's thick purple (and worryingly tangled) hair, the slight tears and rips in his clothing and the dirt caked around his scabbing knees, she bought her hands to her mouth and rushed towards them. 

_We score first,_ both Kay and Xe thought. 

"Oh my gosh Xelan. Have you been in a fight? Who did this to you?" 

Xelan lifted his eyes with exaggerated tiredness and put on his most demure and vulnerable pout. "It's nothing mother," he lightly said, "I was just playing gang up brandy with all my school friends this afternoon." 

Shura gave the man standing a pace or two behind Filia a polite smile and curiously saw another figure emerge from the vehicle. A shorter, blonde man who he had seen before. Was his name…Pika…something-Pika from Killua's studio. Shura suspected that he must be a cousin of Mrs. Filia. 

"Brandy? That violent game? Oh Xe! You're not suited to rough sports like that," Filia complained, all the while examining her boy for further injuries. 

"Hey Filia," the older man spoke genially and appeared by her side. He loomed over Kaéry and Xelan, "kids need to get nicked here and there sometimes to grow up properly. You shouldn't pamper him too much otherwise he won't turn out to be a real man." 

"On the contrary," Kaéry spoke up, the smile that he reserved for mundane functions and meetings now fully switched on to a dazzling brilliance, "I believe that a man shouldn't be judged by the number of bruises he's capable of receiving without a flinch. According to your rather primitive and out-dated outlook on masculinity, that'd mean we should strive to become something of a gorilla in order to look like 'a real man'." Kaéry ignored Filia's boyfriend's growing look of open disapproval with familiar ease and superb finesse, continuing as unaffected as the smooth arc of a seagull soaring in the air with the wind beneath his wings. His eyes sparkled with malice and arrogance, "Take Uncle Xelloss for instance, Xelan's _father_. Now there's a man worthy of my greatest respect, but strangely, he doesn't need to resort to your dogmatic ideologies of what it really means to be a man." 

Shura looked away lest they all saw him boggling, but _Prince _Kaéry dealing with adults was one of the most nerve-wracking entertainments he'd ever witnessed. His eloquence and articulation made you in contrast look like a first grader whose vocabulary range consisted only of fifty words. His cruel smirk, his catlike narrowed eyes, his demeanor of infinite confidence all suggested his undeniable superiority over your inferiority. Talk about goading people into irrationality – if _that_ couldn't get to you, you had to be a bloody saint. 

Mrs. Filia's boyfriend looked like he knew he was out-witted from the word go, from the moment Kaéry opened his mouth and gave him the look of a merciless executioner. Instead of coming back with his own retort, which Kaéry would only twist to his advantage, he let his arm embrace Filia's slender waist and pulled her closer to him in a gesture of ultimate triumph, saying _If Xelloss was such a real man, then how come I am the one knocking his wife?_

But the Prince was too controlled to let the barest hint of anger bait him. Instead, he gave such a derisive laughter that it hurt to listen to it and the man realized he made a mistake. 

"Then and again," Kaéry continued in his off-handed manner, "I also respect Uncle Xelloss if not because he's above his petty insecurities to treat a dignified woman as a piece of meat or a trophy in order to prove his worth." 

After the deliverance of that devastating sally and further scathing laughter, no man with an iota of pride could hold back his rage. Had Filia not been there, Kaéry would easily have gone home that evening with a black eye and bruises along his throat, though the smile would be hard to wipe off his face. But Mrs. Filia stepped forth and with a great look of unholy anger reprimanded Kaéry: "This is _not_ your place to speak!" 

Kaéry nodded, the look of repentance immediate but false. Deliberately so, and it didn't help that his grin turned all the more wretched and diabolical. "Of course Aunty Filia. I know _exactly_ how Mr. Valgarv is feeling right now. He's an actor, but his act of civil restraint is unconvincing to say the least, a dog's breakfast to be honest. Want me to psychoanalyze him?" 

"That's enough from you Kaéry." 

Kay turned, with Xelan still on his back and the younger boy hopped off at presence of the newcome. A man wearing Xelan's long purple hair walked up the driveway with a morbid expression on his face. 

"Uncle Mu!" Xelan ran to the tall man and held out his arms to be picked up. Mu shook his head and patted Xe on the head. 

"You're getting too old for that one now dear nephew; too old and too intelligent to be throwing these sorts of immature tantrums with your friend." 

"Why Mr. Mu, how is a friendly conversation on the male image immature in any way, shape or form?" 

"You know yourself Kaéry," Mu said without too much love and narrowed his eyes at him, "I could sense your hostilities from a mile away." 

Kaéry's smile didn't waver, "Allow me to reassure you sir; that was only the tip of the iceberg." 

"For which I'm utterly thankful. Now Kay, this is a private family matter and I suggest you take Shura and go home." 

Kaéry didn't miss a beat. "If Mr. Valgarv to Aunty Filia is 'family', then I to Xelan are blood brothers." 

Mu sighed and gritted his teeth. "Look Kaéry, you're not invited to this gathering. Please, go home." 

"And leave my Xe defenseless to you wolves while you emotionally tear him apart? Please Mr. Mu, I have an IQ of over two fifty and am therefore _not_ stupid. Come Xe," he pulled his friend back to his side, constantly backing down the driveway, "they have no right to force to you go through anything, accept anyone, give anyone a chance. You've made up your own mind and I tell you all now: he will not be persuaded otherwise from whatever emotional blackmail you have all planned in your self-satisfied little heads." 

"No Kay, you've got this all wrong," Kurapika slowly, cautiously stepped forward toward the retreating pair. "We're not here to change your mind or Xe's. Aunty Filia just hopes that Xe-chan here can get to know Mr. Valgarv a little better so he can make a more informed judgement." 

"Kurapika, your naïve intentions have been noted, but I regret to inform you that you've been misled. Whether Mr. Valgarv be god himself, Xelan doesn't _have_ to know him and he can damn well form ignorant opinions as he chooses." 

"Hey kid! Go wash your mouth with some soap – who taught you those nasty manners?" Valgarv interjected, trying to take an active part in the situation. Today, he found out the true depths of horror and menace in the child everyone dubbed Prince Kaéry. For one instant, when the small black haired child sneered at him and seared his soul with blazing violet fire, he was a vicious monster of unbridled cruelty who was capable of killing him with impunity and would most likely laugh as he did it. Valgarv heard that Lola herself was no pretty or subdued character, having grown up in Northside before she married. It seemed that her son had inherited the gift to deal death and destruction without a molecule of hesitation. 

"_Gotcha!"_ Mu exulted, catching Kaéry in a bear hug from behind and lifted the boy clear off his feet. Kay kicked and struggled, screaming with all hell's fury that Kurapika had to cover his ears as the banshees from the deep abyss responded to his piercing cry of help. 

Filia dashed forward to grab Xelan, but her boy had placed the front gate between them. "Xelan! Come to your mother this instant!" 

"_Come scoglio immoto resta contra i venti, e la tempesta."_

Kaéry stopped struggling and smiled at his friend on hearing those words. He wanted to take Xelan's soft hands in his own and give them a reassuring squeeze. 

_"E potrà la morte sola far che cangi affetto il cor,_" he whispered back. They shared a look of understanding behind a bond so strong and immovable that the gales of a millennium could not erode. 

Xelan turned to his mother, with her new boyfriend of sixth months Valgarv and his dead expression never changed. _"In qual fiero contrasto, in qual disordine di pensieri, e di affetti io mi ritrovo! Vorrei dir, e cor non ho; Balbettando il labbro va. Fuor la voce uscir non può, ma mi resta mezza quà. Che farete, che farò."_

"Xe baby, come to mama, please, mama doesn't understand what you're saying." Filia pleaded, hoping her nephew Kurapika could add in an extra word on her behalf. 

_"Now Shura!"_

Yomi's son launched a swift and savage kick to Mu's shins. The latter's face screwed up in pain and he instantly let go of Kaéry, who landed gracefully and silently on his feet like a cat. As Mu hopped, clutching at his leg in pain, Shura tripped Valgarv over from giving chase and leaped over the front gate. 

_"Rispettate, anime ingrate, questo esempio di constanza, e una barbara speranza non vi renda audaci ancor." _Xe said icily, giving his mother one last look before he took off as fast as he could with Kaéry down the street. 

Beside them, Shura laughed like a lunatic. 

"Geesus Kay – hanging around you is so much fun sometimes. You have seriously no respect for adults whatsoever." 

"What is there to respect? I thought better of Mu, but I guess Aunty Filia managed to exercise her magic over him and brainwash him into seeing things her way." 

Shura turned to Xe who was currently having no trouble keeping up with their pace nor did he show any sign of pain for the fresh blood seeping out of his wounds. "So Xelan, I take it that you don't want Valgarv to be your stepfather." 

"There will be no stepfather," Xelan said with his characteristic calm, flawlessly masking any feelings of hate and malevolence he might have harboured. 

Shura led them down an alleyway, a short cut to his house, "What can us kids do anyway? Adults lead their messy and screwed up lives and expect us to dance to their tunes. Now we're running away. We can't run forever." 

"Today was only the tip of the iceberg," Kaéry said, his face hard and uncompromising, his voice riddled with sharp determination and cold anger "and I promise greater and more glorious things to come." 

Shura nodded and saved his breath. _Never mess with Prince Kaéry_ was a message that everyone should treat with the seriousness of a time bomb they found themselves trapped in the same room with. Roll out the cannons – bring forth the men and arm them; Prince Kaéry and Xelan were on the war path and nothing short of Salar could possibly hope to defeat them.   


* * *

  
**Author's notes**

Yes! Inspiration struck me with the entrance of Misha! If you've read _Untitled_, the lunatic general is back, except now he's been demoted into a Marshall, under Salar as well. And I was finally able to properly introduce Vallanor into the story, at last! 

On the other hand…I've just come to realize that Vallanor looks a LOT like Valinor from Lord of the Rings. Dear Mr. Tolkien, let me say to you now that I totally and utterly respect you and that I have come up with 'Vallanor' for entirely different reasons. As you can see, Vallanor is named after Lord Vallissa, and I have placed an emphasis on the prefix 'Val'. The spheres of influence that Lord Vallissa's five Generals will control will be named after the Generals themselves, but once again, the prefix 'Val' will be attached. I don't even know if I'll go that far in this story, but let me just assure any jittery readers out there that's how I stumbled across the word "Vallanor" – truth be told, I never delved into the history behind Middle Earth and it was only because I crossed a LOTR webpage today with a glossary that I found the word Valinor. Doo Hickey. 

I love Kay and Xe – I'd have them for brothers any day, sweet little buggers. The two broke off into Italian towards the end there. Will I provide the translations? No – not at this point, or perhaps never. Either how, they're from Mozart's opera _Cosi fan tutti_, the words and translation kindly supplied by www.aria-database.com – but interpret the words as you will. If enough people complain, then my conscience might persuade me to put up the translation ;D.   


**Rusco:** hehe - hope you enjoyed the opening of this chapter then - watch out for my new fic _The Definition of our Existence _as well - that one strongly features Hisoka and Illumi together =D 

**Yukitsu:** Ooh – you mean _that!_ Hehe, my bad, it's just that Kay and Salar are quite alike that it doesn't seem unreasonable to forget that his dad's actually Karasu. But unfortunately, no, this isn't a daytime soapie filled with melodramatic plot elements - _*gasp* you had an affair with my brother! _– sort of thing. It's understandable if you get confused sometimes; you might not know who Salar is referring to when he says 'brother' because he addresses both Karasu and Lola as his brother (both younger of course). He made a blood pact with Lola to be brothers (I know, sounds crazy – it's all in the history) so that should have struck out any possibilities of _that_ sort of relationship you're thinking of. However, they never really manage to persuade the general public about what sort of relationship they have, nor does Salar feel the need to explain. You share Karasu's apprehension – if Salar is his twin brother, that means he's got the same DNA, meaning a DNA test will be inconclusive… and his wife would be offended if he questioned her. 

As to Dougy – well, the way I see it, he's actually been with Illumi for little over a month now and they've been together a lot. Illumi's a workaholic, and much of his work has been poured onto Dougy. You might notice my references to Illumi teaching Dougy social etiquette again, getting him set up with PRs, fixing his hair – they share a lot of time together, so even though it's only been a month, they have grown quite close. And besides, Dougy sees this partnership as a long term relationship, definitely not a one off fling, so he's taking initiative and actively working at getting to know Illumi better and become his friend. 

"Please….don't rape me" --> wasn't meant to be teasing. The situation was actually quite frightening for him and he had no idea what to expect, except for that ambiguous position and hold that Illumi had over him. Hope that clears things up a bit more =D 

Thanks for the reviews – don't hesitate to drop me a note! Heck – drop me a note, any small one, just to let me know that you're reading this! 

Bah - no classical music nutcases around here - the answer to last chapter's question - the movement from Brahm's symphony was actually that highly emotional and moving background music used in **Slayers Try**! Go on - listen and compare! 


	19. Chapter 19: Preemptive Strikes

**H U N T E R W O R K S**

By Yomi 

**Chapter 19**

**_Pre-Emptive Strikes_****__**

* * *

"I don't want to know," Lola turned away, clamping her hands to her ears as Karasu put down the receiver and gave her 'that' look. He fared no better, a pained twitch in his mouth and his usual languid countenance now dark and tight around the eyes. 

"Lola," he said, patiently, exasperatedly, "Kaéry has done something seriously wrong this time. We can't turn a blind eye." 

She glared at him because he had made it sound like it was her fault with his overtly calm expression and his expectedness for her to handle the situation. It was just another incidence of Kay going just a bit too far and if her records were right, it was supposed to be Karasu's turn to have a quiet word with whoever Kay had stepped on. "Why not?" she challenged. 

"He's taken a serrated saw to Filia's tail and that'd be ok if he didn't take her son with him." 

She raised an eyebrow. "Take her son with him?" 

Karasu sighed and nodded, unbuttoning his cuffs and his top button which was digging irritably into his neck. "Yeah - according to Mu, Kay took Xe and 'ran like the wind'." 

"Where'd they go?" 

"Shura was with them; Shura kicked Mu and tripped up Fi's new boyfriend as well - gah! What are you laughing at woman?" 

He dubiously watched his wife double over, peals of laughter bubbling forth in an unoccasasional bout of reckless release. He crossed his arms. "I so wish you wouldn't do that. I'm trying to be serious here." 

She stood up and wiped the corner of her eyes on her sleeve and regulated her breathing. "Shura's a kid with spunk. I admire that - he's got potential. So, he was in it with Kay - anyone checked his house then?" 

"Neither Yomi or Mistress is home right now and if the kids don't want to pick up the phone, nothing's going to stop them. We could drive over and check." 

"No, lets not bother Karasu. This is Kaéry we're talking about, the most obnoxiously devious little brat we're trying to control here. You understand that for all our good intentions, the chances of getting him to apologize for whatever wrong he committed are close to nil." 

"The voice of sensibility tells me that I, no _we_, can't think like that. We're parents Lola - we've got duties and responsibilities; this isn't Northside, we've got to teach children differently." 

She bristled and sharply sucked in a furious breath as Karasu made reference to her past. Karasu saw her look and quickly continued: "Our society has laws and rules that Kay will eventually have to learn not to flout. I know he's got a brilliant mind, but lets make sure he grows up to be a respectable man who realizes that the limitations and boundaries are for the good of society." 

He held her in his arms and tentatively pressed his lips to her forehead. "Lola, Kay lives in a different world to you; he lives in a world that he has to share with many other people. This is a lesson he's got to learn." 

"No Karasu," Lola whispered, responding to his embrace, "he'll never share this world with its people. He'll either rule over it and play with it, or he'll abandon it and watch it turn whilst he stands apart and aloof, pursuing endeavours that the world won't understand." 

"That's just denying responsibility on our part Lola. He's a part of us, no matter what." 

"Don't say that Karasu, don't say that at all. It's only going to make him hate the boundaries and the so-called limits even more. I'd rather a Kaéry who goes through life a bit aimless, drifting from one obsession to another rather than see him actively try to smash anything in his path." 

He held her tighter and shared her fears, the words 'Kaéry' and 'smash' in the same sentence making him break into cold sweat. "You're afraid he's going to turn out like Salar aren't you, that something is going to provoke him one day and give his brilliant mind a destructive purpose. But we can stop Kay from becoming like that Lola - none of us could do anything to influence Salar because he was too old already, his mind too firmly established. Kay is different - Kay is our son and I'm willing to resort to wringing the same emotional blackmail that he pulls on us all the time. He loves us Lola - something we didn't have over Salar. Lets bring him back under our fold." 

She didn't look convinced and her eyes were downcast if not miserable. She said nothing and only buried her face into the crook of his neck, breathing in that familiar and comforting scent, wishing that everyone wouldn't make such a fuss over Kay's antics. They were harmless antics right? mere annoyances that pissed some people off but never did any harm. 

She'd let them all try though, even Karasu, but soon they'd realize the futility of trying to control a creature as free and wild as people like Kaéry or his friend Xelan. Nature graced them with an intelligence beyond human envy and with that came the unnatural destiny of solitude and alienation. As a mother, the most she could do was to make sure that he would find at least one person on this earth who could share his burden and understand him through and through; know that his tiny frown conveyed great anger, that his pout revealed bitter disappointment, that his cruel smirk was a sign of hell to come. 

She wouldn't let Kay be alone - ever. She'd stand with Kaéry even if the whole world was against them. Just like the old times. 

* * * * 

Shura handed his two guests spare sets of clothes and giggled when they stepped out. His top was too big for Kay and Xe nearly tripped over the legs of his pants. The purple haired boy gave a sheepish smile, which was heartening given the look of permanent heartbreak on his face earlier. 

"You guys took long enough," Shura grinned, rolling his eyes as Kaéry accepted another towel and worked at drying Xelan's thick mane. "Want me to get a hairdryer?" 

"The hairdryer's bad for Xe's hair. I always dry it for him," Kaéry declared and he pulled the younger boy over to the guest room bed, smoothing the sheets for Xelan to sit on. 

Shura had always heard from ill-tempered rumours that Prince Kaéry and Xelan were a natural disaster together and were undeniably close. 'Close' had many definitions however, and the older boy certainly never expected _this_ kind of intimacy. The two sometimes held hands, as if the physical contact alone allowed them to transfer their thoughts without the need for the ungraceful clumsiness of speech. Xe for most part acted like a submissive housewife and Kay would be egged on to dangerous extremes with Xe's barest smile of encouragement. 

There were several terms he could use to describe them: nutcase, crackpots, looney tunes. 

The scene on the bed right now was leaning more towards a name that had yet to be created in order to perfectly suit the pair. 

Kay worked the brush through the shiny purple mass of satin hair like he was refining a master piece, a maestro feverishly labouring over a work of art. Xelan sat cross legged, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed the ministrations of his friend whilst basking in the rays of the late afternoon sun streaking through the window. 

"Look guys, I don't know how long you can hide out in here for." 

Kay lifted his violet gaze towards him and Shura gulped, wishing he could have swallowed down those words as well before they came out. "Not long at all Shura, and I thank you for your hospitality. We just need about a day or so to draw up our strategies and regroup." 

The older boy threw himself onto the king sized bed and lay on his back, watching the lazy dustmotes drifting in line with the sun. "Kay, you're smart and all, but they're _adults_. You might have kick-ass reasoning, but you know the big people - they don't talk reason with kids." 

Kaéry gave a cruel laugh that sent sharp cold pains shooting up Shura's spine. "Oh, but I was never thinking of using reason. It was patently clear that they all have no inkling of honour or decency, thinking of ganging up on poor Xe like that. I'm going to hit them back where it hurts." 

"Apart from physically hiring thugs to take out that Valgarv, attractive as that suggestion may sound, how are you going to hurt him?" 

Shura thought that Kaéry sometimes talked bigger than he could actually act, and this was one such instance. In the end, didn't they end up fleeing from the scene just an hour or so earlier, unable to withstand the dominance of the parents and the adults? Kay was smart, his tongue sharp and his words witty but when Mu picked him off the ground, his grasp of the situation instantly fell apart and his plans (if he hand any) went straight to hell in a handcart. At present, Kaéry was calm and collected once more, indifferent to the pressing issues and spoke with an embellished air of a successful gentleman. 

"Xe, would you like to do the honours?" 

Xelan hummed a bit and he leaned back resting his head on Kaéry's shoulder. "I suppose we could launch a smear campaign against him, provide the magazines with gossip and dirt, and if there isn't any, I'm not ruling out the necessity of fabricating evidence." 

Kay's dropped the brush and his arms slowly wrapped around the figure in his lap; his smile was all the crueler, all the more malicious and his lips all the more bloody against his pale skin. He breathed in deeply the elusive fragrance of the shampoo still in Xelan's hair and his light laughter contained no humour. 

"Why Xe, spinning up dirt on him is never going to work in the long run, and might even turn your dear mother angry at you, which is a big negative, and the artificiality of the plan is distasteful, amateurish. We're going to hit him where it hurts - we are going to make sure that your mother will be forced to choose between you or him." 

"That's not such a good idea," Shura bit his lip, propping himself onto his elbows and wincing at the unnatural scene, "I mean, how clichéd is the threat of suicide?" 

"Suicide and death is only for those not skilled in the art of manipulation and have to resort to such uncouth and dissatisfactory means of securing attention," Kay murmured, captivated by the sensation of running his delicate fingers through his friend's luxurious hair. "We deal with the real dirt, we stir up real controversy, we plunge everyone who wants to have a hand in this matter into a chaotic maelstrom of angst and hatred that they'll learn never to meddle in other's private affairs again. I'm sure you've done your research Xe?" 

Xelan's brows knotted together in a rare show of annoyance and he squirmed further into Kaéry's lap. "He's clean. He hasn't got any bastard children, no criminal record - not even for drink driving and doesn't have a habit of visiting the more disreputable nightclubs in town. He comes from a humble family, nothing flashy but nothing ugly." 

Shura groaned and flipped onto his side. "You mean he's clean." 

"That's what I said." 

"Ah, but Xe, what of his person? Like I said, his history, his habits - those aren't enough for me. I want to rip him to shreds Xe, I have to see him crawl through the bowels of Hell and then beg for my forgiveness." 

"For goodness sakes Kaéry, isn't ruining someone's reputation enough?" Shura fixed an exasperated glance at him, his limbs suddenly drained of energy. Xelan grumbled, something incoherent, and became restless. 

"If you're asking me whether he drinks, smokes, takes drugs or likes to chase women - the answers are all no." 

"Xe, not just his ostensible bad points. You failed to mention that he is devoutly religious, goes to Sunday Church and is very much a _conservative_," the last word said with a great amount of malevolent relish. 

Shura rolled his eyes, "Great. So he's a bloody saint as well." 

Kay stole a kiss from Xelan's cheek, causing Shura to hurriedly find something else that was interesting to study. "No Shura - he's a homophobic little chauvinist pig who probably doesn't even believe in contraception, sex before marriage and harbours an inherent intolerance towards all other forms of belief." 

"So?" 

"We're going to directly attack his character and make sure he's entirely incompatible to Xelan, thus unsuited to even stand in the same picture together. And if he persists in this self-destructive crusade, he's going to have to change into a person that goes completely against everything that he's been taught – to become a person he was instructed to abhor and loathe through and through – all for the sake of love of course, if it's that's strong, which I hardly doubt. We're going to win Xe - and it's going to be damn easy." 

"I still don't see how," Shura said archly, offended that Kaéry still wouldn't relieve him of the suspense. 

"Tell me Kay, I want to know too. I can't think straight right now; not with all my feelings in the way." 

Kay kissed him again, this time closer to Xelan's pink lips and his grin broadened. "We're gay. You and I. We're lovers who refuse to be separated. If my premise is unshakably correct - that parents love their children unconditionally - our path to victory and success is insured." 

Xelan gave a faint smile and he opened up his cerulean blue eyes. He caressed Kaéry's face with cold fingertips, brushed aside some of the overhanging fringe tickling his friend's cheeks and returned the kiss. In a soft and sultry voice laced with velvet smoothness, he said: "I'll be an affront to everything that Valgarv believes in and stands for. He'll either hate me or try to convert me, but when I cannot be converted, he'll hate me even more - and what's worse, it's entirely personal. What sort of position will that put my mother in?" 

"Between a rock and a hard place," Shura looked away again but snorted in disgust at the same time. Kay was a demon, truly, a child prodigy who could metamorph into a fiend, seemingly at will, and attack the fundaments of decency without an iota of hesitation. Religion has always been a touchy subject, dispute in religious ideology even more so, and this was what Prince Kaéry was threatening to stir up - a very real and material clash on the most intimate and personal level. The kid was a bloody genius. 

"So now," Kaéry continued, rubbing noses with Xelan, "we just have to drum up support from our peers at Saturday school so that they all give our parents the same story when they start asking around - " 

"Before people get the story right, do you two actually plan on acting...well, you know...gay?" 

The two children balked. Kaéry apparently hadn't thought that far ahead. He hummed a bit, suddenly lost for words and bit is lips in thought. 

"If the act is to be convincing, I think we will need to drop some hints. Oh dear – " 

"What is it Kay?" 

"I'm just wondering Xe, whether I need to or how I am going to set up a scene where my mother will bang open my bedroom door and find us both naked and engaging in sexual intercourse. Oh dear," he repeated once more, with worry, "getting our act to work is very…_difficult_." 

Shura slapped his head and raked a hand through his hair. "For goodness sakes Kay, I seriously don't think you have to go that far. Why don't you start with some small but noticeable actions and behaviour?" He crossed his legs and faced the pair, his face perfectly serious but he couldn't conceal the excitement from his voice. He was starting to understand now why Kaéry and Xelan loved to engage in conspiracies all the time - it wasn't just the adrenaline rush, it was also the fact that there was secrecy and conniving undercurrents behind their actions which made it all the more forbidden and daring. 

Kay pondered on the idea though with reserved enthusiasm than Shura would have liked - it was as if Kaéry didn't really trust Shura to be able to come up with the goods. "I suppose you have already brainstormed a list?" 

"Yup - try something simple first - will you two be ok with holding hands?" 

Xe squirmed around uncomfortably in Kay's lap so that the sun did not directly blind his eyes. "Kay and I hold hands sometimes. No problem there." 

"There's got to be the dominant and subservient one - you'll have to work that out amongst yourselves." 

"What's there to work out?" Kaéry gruffly said, "Xe follows my lead all the time, right?" 

His friend agreed and left Shura groping for words. "Ok...do you guys take baths together often?" 

"All the time - Kay's house has this really big and spiffy spa. I'm going to ask dad to install one for Christmas so that I don't have to go to Kay's place all the time." 

Unnerved by the casualty of all the replies, Shura dared himself to stray into some darker territories. "And you guys seem to have the kisses going already..." 

"We do?" Kay blinked. 

"Yeah, you do." 

"Since when!?" Shura caught a tinge of outrage in the raven haired boy's voice. He blinked but had enough composure not to…do something which would embarrass himself. 

"You just kissed him...one minute ago." 

Kaéry pursed his lips together, unimpressed and disturbed. "Those aren't kisses Shura - I nuzzle Xe when he's particularly affectionate." 

"Oooh - the way you describe Xe is also suggestive as well. That's good!" 

"Hang on a minute here!" Xelan interrupted sharply, sitting upright despite Kaéry's silent protests. "Kay! Shura's saying that we act gay already!" 

Kaéry's jaw hung open as he quickly reviewed the questions he was just asked, the affirmative answers he and Xe had given and made a strangled noise. "But...we're not gay...are we?" 

Xe flicked his hair back and boldly settled back into his lap with his head leaning on his shoulder but his blue eyes were furiously determined. "It doesn't matter Kay, so long as our act is convincing and it repulses Valgarv, they can all call me gay, fag, homo, poof or bitch for all I care." He glanced at Kaéry's indecisive expression and 'nuzzled' him on the cheek again. "Don't get sidetracked by the irrelevant things too much Kay. We've got a job to do, remember?" 

His friend nodded and sank his face into the crook of his neck and breathed in deeply. "You're more ruthless and frightening than I can ever be when you set your mind to things Xe," he whispered, "but you're right - it matters not whether people already see us that way, so long as our objective is achieved. We do what we want, and we don't have to explain it to anyone." 

Kaéry suddenly looked up, pale and shocked eyes widely staring past Shura. "Dear lords - I must have sounded a lot like my mother just then." 

"Aunty Lola is gay too?" said Shura incredulously. 

"No - my mum and my uncle are close, which is one of the reasons why my dad dislikes my uncle so. Dad asked mum once to explain, but she said replied with what I had just said: 'We do what we want and so long as we're not hurting anyone, we don't have to explain it.'" Kaéry set his jaw and Xelan felt the body against him become rigid and tense. "Mum's right - what we have is our business and no one else's; if we don't feel like sharing, then we don't share. If they try to force it out of us, we'd cut our tongues first before we talk. Are you with me on this Xe?" 

Xelan's soft hand crawled into Kaéry's clawed ones and he gave a small squeeze coupled with one of his infamously sweet smiles. He wrapped his arms around Kay's neck and nodded whilst making contented, purring noises. 

"Don't you dare back out on me with this one either," he whispered. 

"Of course Xe - I've already made up my mind that we'll be together for the rest of our lives. Stuck together with super glue, you and I, through thick and thin and nothing can ever tear us apart. Those who try..." 

The threat was left unspoken, hanging in the air like the blade of the guillotine ready to plunge at a moment's notice. Kaéry had a fanatic's gleam in his eyes but it did not perturb Xelan the least. He settled comfortably back in Kaéry's lap and entwined his fingers tightly with Kaéry's. Shura had a gut feeling that they were not acting or rehearsing the lines that they would say to Valgarv in order to make him hate them some more (as if Kaéry hadn't given Valgarv a lot to hate already). It was real, raw emotion that he was being subjected to and he was appalled that the two could tap into the intensity of an emotion so strong as to allow them to confront an overwhelming adversity. 

Admittedly, Shura felt uncomfortable at first, to be in the presence of such unsightly and beyond-the-norm behaviour, yet the two had their ways. He put it to their naturalness - it must be something that the two constantly engage in without sparing a thought to the implications behind their actions that gave it the light of innocence. He steered his mind back onto the issue. 

"Ok - but you can't just go up to your parents and say: 'ma, pa, I regret to inform you that I'm gay and in love with Kay.' That's gonna look like you made it up to piss them off and grab attention. Supposing that our parents haven't caught on to the suggestive nature of your behaviour, how else are you going to get the message across?" 

"He's got a point Kay." 

"Shura's practical and thinks of practical things. I like that in you. But that part's not going to be hard. I guess a setting could be arranged, but it has to be subtle and - " 

They were all interrupted when the door to the guestroom flung open with considerable force and Mistress barged in, her cheeks tainted pink from exertion. She panted, her gaze instantly stolen by the scene of Xelan snuggled tightly in Kaéry's arms and Shura lying on his back oblivious to the awkward situation just a mere foot away. Her bottom lip trembled and she fought to produce some words. 

"So that's where you are! Filia and Xelloss have gone crazy out there trying to look for you Xelan. You could have given them a call to tell them you came here at least!" she finally remembered what she was here for, thus exclaimed, and walked hurriedly over to them. She cupped the young boy's cheek and noted the pink, fading veins in his eyes that had once been bloodshot. She sighed. 

"Your parents are going through rough times Xelan, and I guess it's terribly hard for you too. Look - I'll give your parents a call and tell them that you are staying here for a few days, if that's what you want. But you young man - " she pinned a severe look on the innocently smiling Kay, "you are apparently in big trouble." 

"Who me?" 

"Yes you - Mu says that you manipulated Shura into kicking him and Valgarv says you made some very inappropriate and very nasty comments." 

"Why Aunty Mistress, Valgarv would say that, if only because he's unable to redeem his tattered image (not that he had a good one to start off with) in any other way. It's not my fault that he made himself look stupid and incompetent." 

Mistress bit her lip and helplessly turned to Shura for assistance but seeing none other than a hapless shrug, she racked her brains and irritably ran a hand through her head. "Yes Kay," she plaintively said, "but Valgarv is still an elder, thus you still have to respect him, despite what Xe feels. You give your parents a call young man, and see if they want you to go home or not. Xe I'm keeping." 

"Aww.." Kaéry laughed, "I've become the villain here! No one wants to shelter me lest the stink of my evil rubs off on them." 

"This is no laughing matter." Mistress gravely studied the three children who didn't understand just how entangled they had caused themselves to become in the already complicated mess and only felt immeasurable pity for them, even Kaéry. He was probably the most innocent of the three, his motivations and actions springing from his naive desire to help his one and only friend. Who would want to see their friend suffer the grief of a parent's separation or the herald of a new life and the drastic change? Some people would be supportive and urge their friend to accept change and ride with the currents of time whilst Kaéry in this instance threw in his lot with Xelan's determination that things should remain as they are, should remain as they have known all their lives. Xelan was known to be a quiet boy, shy and soft spoken, so he left his expressions and thoughts to Kay, who inevitably bore the brunt of the anger for them. Willing too, she added. 

Those thoughts were for another day, for the parents of the children when their heads were cool and calm enough to engage in a proper conversation without seeing each sentence as a personal attack ending in a debacle of men and women launching themselves at each other's throats. 

"Shura - a private word with you outside?" 

Shura meekly followed his mother's swaying hips out into the corridor. Mistress made sure the door was firmly shut behind her and took Shura by the arm, pulling him a good distance away. 

"You mister! I've heard about your good deeds for the day as well!" 

Shura raised his arms and wrapped them around his head, mistakenly thinking that his mother was going to slap him. "Before you get angry mum, please hear me out. The adults were all getting physical and violent - I swore that Valgarv would have strangled and killed Kaéry if he thought he could get away with it and Mu was being rough too. He manhandled Kaéry, and what _proper gentlemen _would do such a thing to a young, innocent kid?" 

Mistress gave her son a flat stare which communicated her refusal of his acceptance, but ruffled his hair nonetheless. "First, Kaéry is not an innocent kid, and two, he could drive a saint to bloody murder. Divorce and separation are an unhappy business, so whilst I do not agree with what you did, I still understand how you felt. Try not to do that next time though ok? They're mum's friends too." 

"Okay," Shura nodded, crossing his fingers behind his back. 

Mistress then warily checked to see that the two other boys hadn't come out of the guest room and leaned in closer to Shura, whispering into his ear: "Son, do your friends...you know..." 

Shura gave his mother his most understanding look. "Yes, apparently they do. _Close_, aren't they." 

"Yes," Mistress blinked, hurriedly looking away to hide the embarrassment, "I was...just surprised. But they don't...you know..." 

"They do mum, they do. They were doing it in front of me like it was the most natural thing in the world - they say they're _nuzzling_ each other." 

Her pale hand flew up to cover her mouth. "You're kidding me." She'd known they were close, but certainly not _that_ close. 

"Nope," he shook his head, his cheeks threatening to crack from all the strength of will that he put behind to keep it straight. 

"At their age? Gosh...maybe I should...have a word with their parents." 

"But mum, isn't this a kind of…private thing?" _Good one Shura! Reverse psychology is the way to go!_

Mistress looked down, like she had just remembered that Shura was still standing there. "Of course Shura dear...but this is something which shouldn't be concealed...actively disclosed...I'll have to think about it. But get Kay to call his parents ok? I don't want a lynch mob outside my house demanding that I hand him over so they can hang him and decide to tear down my house just so they can get to him. I don't have a moat to fend them off and your dad's not back yet either." 

Shura gave him mum a quick hug and raced back to his room with a firm mind _not_ to convey the news. Let things roll out naturally, keep Kay and Xe in the dark so that they wouldn't consciously act out their peculiar form of friendship, and victory had become just that much more inevitable and he will have had a hand in it too. Did he also have a particular dislike for Valgarv? Not in the least - didn't even know the man but the call of adventure got the better of him. He wanted to see how far the two could go, and he wanted to be with them by their side, if not just two steps behind, just so he too could see the world from an entirely different and refreshingly unique perspective.   
  
  


* * * *   
  
  


Killua found Kurapika with his head hanging and his hands sullenly caught in his pockets. He called out to his co-actor. 

"Hey Killua," Kurapika barely raised his eyes to greet him and went back to staring disinterestedly at the road. Killua gave him a hearty slap on the back. 

"Why so glum? You look like you've just been to a funeral!" 

"No, I didn't go to a funeral," Kurapika responded, literally construing Killua's small joke, "but my aunt's son has problems." 

"Which aunt?" Kurapika's family was big, so one could never tell with much certainty just who Kurpaika was referring to. 

"Aunty Filia." 

Killua cocked an eyebrow and nodded, "Ah...Xelan, the devil incarnate. What'd he do this time?" 

Kurapika sighed, long and glum, "Aunty Filia was going to introduce her new boyfriend to Xe this afternoon, but he ran away with Kaéry instead and Shura kicked Mu and Valgarv." 

The blonde wondered why the director's son would find the situation amusing, to the degree that it warranted large explosive laughter which required large draughts of air thereafter to refill the lungs to reproduce the same sound. He chewed on the insides of his cheeks and continued to plod along to a destination he was compelled to reach. 

"Ah, Shura - good for him! Anyway, what's this got to do with you?" 

"Aunty Filia thinks I'm good with children, and I am since I spent so much time at Dr Slump's Community Center, so she thought I could help her persuade Xelan not to hate Valgarv so much." 

"You'll have to be Mother Theresa to achieve tumultuous feats as such, and even Mother Theresa could fail. Kurapika, this is _Xelan_ we're talking about - the kid who made us afraid of our own shadow when Kaéry thought he should change some company and hang around Karuto. What do you think you could do?" 

Kurapika pursed his lips, "I know he's intelligent, but he's still got childish feelings and emotions. That's why he acted the way they did. Filia has called me - Mistress rang her up and told her that all three of them were at her house and now all the parents are going there to sort things out." He looked like he had a stomach ache at the next bit of information: "Aunty Filia still wants me to go - she's convinced that Xelan's going to be going home with her tonight and that the three of them, her new boyfriend that is, are going to have dinner to 'get to know each other'. I don't approve of that." 

"Neither do I," Killua screwed up his face and snarled, "in fact, it sounds heavy handed to me. If Kaéry's with Xelan, the two of them are going to shake the heavens to have their way. Someone might even end up getting killed if she pursues her son like this and I can tell you I certainly won't be sorry about any tragic ending." 

His words sparked some life back in Kurapika although paradoxically, the blonde boy's face paled beyond the white of a hospital's walls. His sudden agitation and urgency in his once plodding footsteps unnerved Killua. 

"You go to Saturday school with them - what kind of trouble do you think they will give us?" 

Killua's laughter became so loud that several people stopped on the other side of the road to openly stare. Killua couldn't care - the question was too damn outrageous. 

"Fathom the way Kay and Xe's minds work?" he cried out, his legs giving way causing him to collapsed in the middle of the sidewalk, still oblivious to the growing looks. "Are you asking me to be insane?! No - that question would ask me to see the world in five dimensions, to see humans as a bunch of mindless meat puppets and to see time as a distorted spectrum which neither comprises of future, past and present." 

Killua accepted Kurapika's hand to help him up but his head was still whizzing in all directions. He dusted his pants off and straightened his shirt with shaking hands and let out a trembling breath. 

"The two of them make demons look like fluffy bunnies when they put their minds to stuffing up someone's day. I merely pull out pranks and step on a few tails, enough to make people squeal, but I can't profile those two. The best I can do is put myself in Xelan's shoes and give you an idea of what _I'd_ do - then I'll leave it to your imagination to magnify it by ten, fifty or a hundred times, depending on how pissed off both of them are." 

Kurapika wanted to throw up. Now he had an excuse not to attend.   
  
  


* * * * 

  
  


Yomi's residence hadn't been this boisterous and lively for a long time. Unfortunately, today was for all the wrong reasons. Xelloss instantly got into a shouting match with Filia because she'd bought her boyfriend Valgarv to a meeting that Xelloss didn't think he had a right to attend, and whilst Karasu and Mu attempted to mediate between the pair, Lola helped herself to his wine cupboard and was pouring large glasses of whiskey for herself already. Alcoholic. 

He felt Mistress' warm body pressed close against his, taunt and stiff - a sign of unease on her behalf. He patted her arm soothingly and told her to bring out the tea cups otherwise Lola would seriously go through all their best vintage. 

"I can't believe you were going to gang up on Xelan like that, just so he could meet your new playboy," Xelloss angrily retorted to Filia's last comment and he let his harsh purple stare hit home at Valgarv. The latter opened his mouth to speak then decided against it and clanged it shut, receiving a beaming look of approval from Filia. Xelloss bristled at the exchange and turned his irritation onto his brother instead. 

"Whose side are you on anyway Mu? I can't believe _you_ let yourself get involved in such an ugly mess!" 

"I'm on Xelan's side," Mu calmly informed his brother with a note of sadness in his voice. "You guys all seem to think that you have Xelan's best interests at heart, but think about it, from all I've heard, it's always: me, me and more me. If you really had cared about my nephew's precious feelings, then you wouldn't have separated in the first place. But since it looks like reconciliation between both of you is impossible, I'm helping Xelan to see the most painless path - that is to accept that things are changing and that his mother can love another man." 

Xelloss couldn't argue with that reason and could only settle for looking away with vodka bitterness. 

"Well," Lola brightly interjected, "now that your family has sorted out the issues and problems, remind me again why Kay is involved?" 

Mu let his brows furrow, "Mrs Lola, your son unfortunately, is the biggest path blocking Xelan to appreciate his new and changing life." 

"Or how about Mu," she replied evenly, "that he's only conveying the wishes of Xelan. Xe is such a quiet boy, he hardly speaks unless it is absolutely necessary, so Kaéry acts as his mouth most of the time. I should know." 

"What I'm suggesting, Lola," Filia spoke up and not afraid to hide her true feelings of dislike for Kaéry's mother, "is that perhaps you should stop Kaéry from seeing Xelan for a while whilst we sort this little problem out - " 

"I like it when we all play fair," Lola smiled as one would to someone you hated with a passion, the artificial brightness in her voice disbanded, "and Xelan seems to be highly disadvantaged when you take his strongest communication device away from him." 

Filia impatiently turned to Karasu, "Talk some sense into your wife." 

"Whilst I agree in principle with you Filia, you've got to consider the realities. This is Kaéry and Xelan we're talking about - they can't be separated. It's going to be _frightening_ if they are and the insurance companies might decide that it is a catastrophic event apt to explain a rise in my hideous insurance premiums. Personally, I'm shit scared about the idea of keeping them apart - we've only recently experienced for ourselves how unstable the two can become without each other," he shuddered at the memory. 

"I say it's unnatural," Valgarv bluntly interjected, crossing his arms over his chest, "not even siblings are so close, let alone two young boys." 

Lola steadily looked at him like a panther fixated by his prey, "Well they are, so deal with it." 

"Karasu is exaggerating things here - Xelan can be perfectly fine without Kay." 

Xelloss snorted at Filia's dismissive denials and bitterly wished that none of this was happening right now. "Right," he drawled sarcastically, "and where were you when Kay found a girlfriend and Xe was hassling me with the most obtuse topics of interest? Oh, that's right, you were out chasing after men." 

"Lets not get personal," Mu held up a hand of peace and sharply glared at his brother in reprimand to leave out the personal attacks, "and focus on the problem. So our troubles are that we cannot get Xelan alone without Kaéry and if we do, both of them - " 

"Become unmanageable," Karasu shortly finished, nodding vigorously in conformity with Xelloss. They both simultaneously reached out for strong drinks that Lola had poured for them and downed it in one go, feeling sick at a vivid memory of locking themselves in the room (hiding in the closet for Xelloss) when Kaéry and Xelan were engaged in Cold War II. 

Mistress gently set her cup of tea down and warily studied all the tense faces. She swallowed and coughed delicately to attract some attention. "Speaking of close, I know that this is not really my place to interfere, but perhaps you should know that Kaéry and Xelan are _very_ close, in a different sort of way than you could have imagined." 

"Enlighten me Mistress," Filia said. Her irritation for the matter was starting to itch her in the most uncomfortable places and the problem was blown entirely out of proportion - thanks to Xelloss. She just wanted to take Xelan out with Valgarv for the evening, and somehow, it became a 'we've got to get the ultimate Prince of Brats away from Xe' topic that neither Karasu nor Xelloss wanted to tackle, even with a ten thousand foot barge pole. "How have we imagined close?" 

Mistress felt pity for Filia - her crimson flushed cheeks and her wheezing breath gave her a torn and worn look, a woman old before her time. "Well," she gently began, "first and foremost they are the best of friends. Second, they are each other's _only_ friends - take one away from the other, and think how lonely the other would be. Third...well...I saw Xelan in Kaéry's arms just an hour earlier...if that means anything." 

"_In his arms?!"_ Filia shrieked then wisely tugged her voice down to an outraged whisper. 

Lola shrugged and finished her sixth glass of whiskey, her hand now moving to the bourbon. "So?" 

"What do you mean _so?_" Filia demanded in horror for the other woman's casualness or her genuine inability to grasp the problem. Lola frankly looked like she didn't care - and she didn't care for a lot of things in fact, being able to see through the flimsy acts and facades that all the people in Anime City put on. Filia suspected that Lola only held such independent airs was because Karasu failed to properly assert his authority over her, and the fact that the woman from Northside still retained a dark side to her nature that didn't care for things as petty as relationship problems. Lola's lips sank into an uncompromising and blunt line, and her tone was brusque and dismissive. 

"That's exactly what I mean - I see Kay and Xe holding hands all the time. I mean, you should see them during one of their book reading sessions," Lola gave a small chuckle at the memory, "Xe reads whilst Kay brushes his hair, and afterwards Xe hops into Kay's lap and they fall asleep, nestled in each other's arms." 

"_And you didn't even think about telling them off?!"_

Lola's shrugging was getting on Filia's nerves and it made the blond woman's eyes twitch at irregular intervals. "I think it's cute. Reminds me of kittens and puppies growing up together, " Lola simply said, draining the glass and refilling it in one fluid gesture. 

"_CUTE?_" 

"Well, yeah. Don't you?" 

"_Why didn't you tell me this earlier? No - why were you so irresponsible not to say anything about it at all?!_" 

Lola smacked her lips, relishing the taste of the liquor on her lips. "Because I see nothing wrong." 

"_Fucking blazes are you quite mad woman? How can two boys cuddling in each other's arms NOT be wrong?"_

"Hey - that's my view and my business. It was something that I thought they would tell you about or that you _should_ have known about already, if you aren't always - " 

"Out chasing younger men," Xelloss softly mumbled, throwing Lola a wink. Filia slammed her hand onto the table. 

"Karasu! Reprimand your wife! She's let this atrocity slip by us all without a word and you're going to let her get away with it?" 

The poor man looked helplessly between his impassive wife, impervious to and unaffected by the gravity of the situation, and his friend's wife who was going to combust like Krakatoa and destroy Pompei. 

"Lola - why didn't you make a comment at least?" 

"Because I didn't think I needed to comment," she snapped, flashing her angry blue eyes at him for taking Filia's side. "They're just kids mucking about, being playful, being friendly, being comfortable with each other. I'm not going to destroy that." 

"_And neither should you Karasu."_

Everyone jumped at the voice and was horrified by the delicate figure silhouetted in the doorway. Salar casually strode forward, swaying slightly, and smiled at them all, formal and detached as always. 

"How did you get in?" 

Salar threw the blind man a wink that could be heard from his smug tone. "Picked the lock dear boy. Old habits die hard you see, and one of my informants in the city couldn't help recording a snippet of a very interesting conversation just hours earlier and I naturally assumed that my nephew and my brother, no, not you Karasu, don't flatter yourself, are in a doo-hickey of trouble." 

Lola looked like she had already won the battle when Salar approached the table of parents and instantly stood up in greeting. Salar beckoned her to sit with one of his older, humane and friendlier smiles that gave every cause to breath, a mute sigh of relief and the easing of many stomach cramps. 

Although elegant and refined as always, Salar looked tired even though we went as far as using concealer to eradicate the lines around his eyes. The corners of his lips wouldn't rise up enough to give the bright smile its finishing touches and there was a way his hand would start trembling if he didn't find something to hold on to. He declined a seat, indicating that he wouldn't be staying for long, and withdrew an MD player from the inside of his jacket pocket. 

He pressed the play button and held up the compact device, letting scratched sounds trickle into the deathly silent room. It began with the scream of the damned and on recognizing it, Karasu had to restrain his wife's murderous advance towards Mu. Xelan's hoarse voice, emotionally dead, crept into their minds and provoked their most frightening nightmares. After the sound of Mu's howl of pain and a 'whump' of a body crashing to the ground (which caused Yomi to snicker), the recording stopped. 

"It's sketchy and the words hardly discernible, but it looks like the boys are going to the opera tonight?" 

Xelloss stole another glare at Filia, who in turn bared her teeth. "Yes, that's what they had originally planned, except _someone_ obviously doesn't respect people's fixed appointments and selfishly insists on disturbing their evening for her personal gain. So how'd you know about it Salar?" 

"Those words came straight from _Cossi fan tutti_, which I was also going to attend tonight with…never mind about me. Ladies and Gentlemen, because you're not me, I suggest you start feeling very frightened." 

Karasu immediately groaned and Xelloss hugged himself, gesturing to Lola to pour him another large drink. 

Mu clasped his hands under the table to stop them from shaking. As he watched Salar, the noticed that with every passing second, the man shed his humanity aside like a cloak and after listening to the playback, his blue eyes, which had been mild and relaxing when he sauntered in, were harder than diamonds, less compassionate than an iceberg. His smile remained, but the humour had long departed. 

_Guess it takes one devil to deal with a small one,_ he jokingly thought, attempting to steady his nerves, but one glance from the man a mere meter or two away from him ripped away all his courage. 

Salar repeated the first Italian words, relishing the musicality of the language as he smirked at them all. "_Come scoglio immoto resta contra i venti, e la tempesta _– is something that you don't really want to hear Xelan ever saying, and if I hadn't been so damn smart, I'd be taking the next plane out of the country to the farthest corners of the earth after what my nephew said in response. But because you're not me Mr Valgarv, I suggest you head straight to the airport if you so value your life." 

"I thought you were here to help us solve the problem," Filia rigidly said, thrusting her chin out despite her shivers but was the first to turn away from the staring competition. 

Salar's pleasant smile did not waver. "No, I'm not here to help. I'm here to interpret and help to distribute blame. One would have thought that if you asked the right questions, the solution would be obvious." 

"Brother, what did the children say?" 

"_Like a mountain, we stand immobile against the tempest winds and storms._" 

Karasu and Xelloss visibly paled. 

"Then my nephew replied with: _And only the power of death alone can change the determination and affections that we share in our hearts._" 

Karasu and Xelloss paled an extra shade. 

"Salar's right," Karasu croaked, "I don't like you or hate you buddy, but you best take the next plane outta here and don't come back. Ever." 

"I agree," Xellos said in the same broken voice, "As much as I hate you pal, Kay and Xe will _eat_ you for breakfast and there won't be enough bones left for us to bury." 

Lola held out her hand for them to shut up and turned to Salar more seriously. "Xe said more stuff towards the end there – can you finish the translation?" 

"_Vorrei dir, e cor non ho: balbettando il labbro va. Fuor la voce uscir non può Ma mi resta mezza quà. Che farete, che farò ? _goes along the lines of : _I would speak but I do not have the heart and my lips stammer. My voice cannot come forth and it remains trapped within. What will you do? What shall I do?_" 

"Poor kid…" Lola said after a moment of uncomfortable silence and looked down onto her whiskey glass with fascination as white cracks began to fountain around her fingers until it shattered under the pressure of her grip and the champagne coloured liquid spilled onto the table. 

"Any…other advice other than to tell the city to evacuate?" Mistress politely inquired. 

"Therapy won't work, they'll end up driving their counsellors insane and from the sounds of it, the probability of reconcilliation between the two children and this situation is about as close to negative infinite as you can achieve. You've really opened up a kettle of fish this time Mrs. Filia." 

She sarcastically thanked him and said: "Well since you're the brilliant one around here, have _you_ got an answer to all this?" 

Salar cocked his head to one side. "I've got several actually – three of which _could_ end up with the city in a mushroom cloud, two of which could end up getting one of them killed, and the last one would have Lola turn around to kill me instead." 

"You want to break them up don't you!" his sister-in-law fixed her gaze on him with horror. "You want to tear them apart and make them hate each other. _I'll kill you if you so much as sow one lie between them, do you hear me! I won't let you do it even if you're my brother and if I die trying, I'm going to take you down with me!"_

"Relax brother – if this is your will, then I won't say a thing. And besides, I've got better things to do with my time than play around with dirt. Well, I'm here for an exchange of information; I gave you a translation, now it's time for you to answer some of my questions. A word outside please Lola?" 

When the pair disappeared from view, Mu slumped in his chair and beside him, Valgarv crossed himself. Karasu and Xelloss were content to drink themselves out of the situation, leaving Filia to fluster and stress.   
  
  
  


Kaéry pulled his ear from the door and cheekily grinned. "We're going to win Xe – mum and Uncle Salar are on our side; the only two people who could have ever thwarted us have decided to align themselves with us. I guess the heavens are afraid of us after all."   
  


* * *

**Author's notes**

My god! How is this still a Hunter fanfic?! There was hardly any Hunter participation at all! à My apologies and I promise the next chapter will be full of Illumi and Hisoka and Machi and Kuroro and just about everyone else who didn't make it to this chapter. Next chapter will be very Hunter orientated so please just bear with this chapter. 

This chapter is hardly edited – but I will shortly come back to revise it. As you all know, my obsessive compulsive behaviour won't let me get back to work until I've got this up, so here it is. 

And thanks for the reviews! Please leave me a note to let me know that you're reading and following this story! 

Translations are courtesy of the aria-database.com, but I took the liberty in tweaking a word or two. 


	20. Chapter 20: A shadow of his Past

**Hunter Works**   
**by Yomi******

**Chapter 20******

**The shadow of his past**

* * *

  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters to Hunter x Hunter or any other of the anime.   


* * *

The whole house was quiet in the dead of night, the secretive silence having condensed and solidified around every single object in the house giving them imaginary weight. 

Lola soundlessly pulled out the chair in front of the computer and her eyes flickered around the room once more, surveying in particular the only entrance where Karasu might come in and interrupt her. She was about to access the highly confidential information that Salar had allowed her to take away a few days ago and she hadn't actually scanned through the contents of that CD until now. 

Didn't want to scan through the contents actually, not until she heard Leona's story on Iori Yagami. Though Leona's account of the horrors may in fact have been exaggerated and embellished, there was no denying that Hisoka's baby cousin had indeed turned into a savage and feral fiend. Even though Northside was considered by many Anime City citizens as Hell's foothold on earth, it wasn't as bad as their imagination had hyped it up to be. Sure, it was lawless, it was violent, its rules of survival were brutal, but some ideas of honour were common to all humankind, no matter where they were living. 

Could Iori's information and downfall be detailed inside the CD? There was only one way to find out. 

She took in a deep breath and double clicked on the CD icon and let her eyes settle on the doorway one last time until she had satisfied herself that there were no shadows dancing nearby. Only one message appeared on her monitor: 

= = = = = = = = = 

Target: Illumi Zoldick 

= = = = = = = = = 

The doll maker? The clothes designer? Surely there had to be some mistake – that fragile young man was only small fry. She thought that Salar would have been out to catch larger fish to recruit into his department. She shifted the cursor over the name and clicked twice, bringing up another screen – a general profile that had evidently been hacked and stolen, from the looks of things, the Hunter Works' database. 

Lola rapidly absorbed the information, noting nothing extraordinary or exciting. The twenty four year old man went to a good university, took up design, went to Mirriston High, which looked to be a prim and proper Anglican school and had a handful of siblings. 

His father died around eight years ago not long after Illumi had finished high school and the family moved out of town before settling in Anime City. According to the latest news and gossip columns, Kikyou was getting quite intimate and close with the infamously unapproachable director-cum-president of Hunter Works, Silva Zoldick. 

The only piece of information of value and interest in the profile had to be the death of the father – presumably, he was not old when he died, so was it due to poor health, a tragic accident or – 

Putting herself into the highly suspicious mind of her brother, she grimaced. Had she been Salar, the new Salar who personified the most repugnant aspects of humanity, the idea of foul play behind the death of Illumi's father would have definitely been an avenue of possibility to head down and explore. 

She forced herself not to think about her brother and concentrate on the task at hand. Could Illumi's past, somehow connected with the death of his father, reveal something extraordinary or enticing about him, enough to earn her brother's fascination? 

She double clicked on the demure portrait of the man and the monitor jumped, bringing up another blank screen with the only words in the centre: 

= = = = = = = = = 

The Diary of Milluki Zoldick 

= = = = = = = = = 

She'd heard of Milluki too; he was another new face in Anime City though not so new in the IT industry. He was a genius at creating game engines and ran a pretty respectable internet service provider at the youthful age of eighteen. How on earth could the diary hold any significance for the subject at hand? 

Clicking on the words bought up pages upon pages of words and diary entries, all personally typed up by Milluki Zoldick an astonishing twelve years ago. Lola shook her head and scowled in disgust – Salar had even managed to acquire a copy of something as personal as someone's precious memories. He must have either bought out someone close to Milluki Zoldick or he hacked through the boy's security and helped himself to the boy's inner most secrets. 

Laughing softly as he did so no doubt. Sick man. 

Lola thought she heard a soft rustling of clothes near the doorway and started, eyes widening and a knife appeared in her hand from the concealed holder. No – there was no one there; she could feel no presence or hear any breathing. It had to be her guilty conscience playing up in her mind. 

Damn you Salar – you know I hate doing dirty things like this. 

She decided not to waste any more time. She blocked out all other concerns and strained her eyes on the luminous monitor. 

= = = = = = = = = 

_25th December, 1991_

Big brother got me this laptop and said that I would enjoy it. I heard from mum that this machine was expensive so I should take good care of it. 

I have taken up big brother's advice and am starting this diary. I think this will be good for me. At least I will now have someone to talk to. I have no friends at school. Dad owns the school, he's the principal, so I can't say anything which I don't want him to hear. I have set a password to this diary, so I can say a lot of things that I don't want him to hear. 

I wish my dad would die. There's not a day where big brother doesn't have some sort of bruise on his face. Dad hates big brother and I hate dad for that. Big brother's a nice person. He looks out for me all the time. He looks out for a lot of other girls in my year level. We are all very scared of dad, but who will believe us? Big brother will, but he gets beaten up by dad for that. 

My Christmas wish for this year is that I hope dad dies. I really do, and when he does, I hope he is frightened and in pain. 

  
  


= = = = = = = = = 

  
  


_27th December, 1991_

I wonder why mum never cares about what happens at home. I watched dad punch big brother in the face today and all this blood fell onto big brother's front shirt and wouldn't stop running. I admire big brother sometimes. He never cries when he's hurt. There are never see tears in his eyes. 

The blood stopped running after big brother tilted his head back and pinched his nose when Dad walked out of the house and banged the door shut behind him. I asked big brother if I could do anything to help him but he just smiled at me. Not his usual smile which makes you feel good. His smile made me feel scared, but I wasn't scared because I now big brother would never hurt me. I'll bet he will smile like that at dad someday, a smile that says "I hate you" instead of "I like you". 

  
  


= = = = = = = = = 

  
  


_December 30th, 1991_

Big brother asked me a very strange question today. He asked me if I liked girls with long hair. I told him that I didn't like girls. I think I like chocolate chip cookies better and he laughed quietly when I said that. I asked him why he asked. He said he was going to grow his hair long, just like a girl in my class. She has very nice long hair. 

He asked me if he would look pretty with long hair. Would he be prettier than the girl in my class he asked. 

I nodded because I thought that would make him happy. He laughed and I think I was shivering when he continued to laugh. Brother does that sometimes, but I get used to it. It's a very scary sound but I know not to be afraid because brother loves me and won't hurt me. 

  
  


= = = = = = = = = 

_January 2nd, 1992_

I haven't worked out my New Year's resolution yet. Big brother said that it's something that you make at the beginning of the year and you try to stick to it throughout the rest of a year. Something to aim at. 

Big brother said that his New Year resolution was to grow out his hair and start to wear different clothes. I asked him why he'd want to do that but he said that he just wanted to do it. 

I wonder how big brother can still manage to smile. I guess it was a good day today but I never feel like smiling. I hate dad. Maybe I'll make it my New Year's resolution to pray to god every night that he'll die because then he'll stop hurting people and I can stop hearing all the screams from the basement. 

I hate the basement.   
  
  


= = = = = = = = =   
  
  


_January 3rd, 1992_

My ribs are hurting. Dad kicked me today when I was typing up the diary. He said I was fat and useless. He called me a piece of shit and an idiot. He was going to kick me some more but big brother stopped him. I wish that he didn't. Dad doesn't like people talking back to him, but big brother does it all the time. I grabbed the laptop and fled to my room when dad took out the whip. 

I am such a useless coward. I'm not brave like big brother. I can't stand up to dad like he can. I think I was screaming when I heard dad's shouts and the whip cracks. I hate you dad, and when I am older, I'll be the one hitting you with your own whip. 

  
  


= = = = = = = = =   
  
  


_January 5th, 1992_

Big brother still looks so terrible. He still can't open his left eye and there are some really ugly looking cuts on his back. But it looks like he hasn't cried at all. He's still smiling and he acts as if he wasn't in pain. 

I know that's a lie. 

Mum was silent when she saw what happened to him. I don't know if she was angry or not. It's hard to tell with mum as well. Big brother is a lot like mum – you can never really tell what they're thinking. I think mum cares, but she never does anything to help. 

I am glad that it's still the holidays. Then no one at school will laugh at big brother. People laugh at him and me all the time. He doesn't seem to care. He smiles all the time, those "I hate you" smiles. But I know big brother loves me. He tells me that all the time. 

I want to repay big brother some day. I'm going to help him just as he always helps me.   
  
  


= = = = = = = = = 

_January 9th, 1992_

That girl in my class last year, the one with the nice long hair, she came to our place today. I saw dad bringing her in and I ran to my bedroom and buried my head underneath all the pillows I could find in my room. Mum's out working and big brother was out shopping so I was the only one at home. I'm not brave enough to do anything but to run. 

I heard her screams from the basement and lots of crying. They were really loud at first but after a while I couldn't hear them any more. I could hear dad groaning and saying things like "suck on it bitch". Her parents came to pick her up at night. I bet dad must have made her scared enough not to talk. Dad's very good at making us all scared. 

Not big brother though. Big brother's not scared of anything and beatings don't hurt him. He smiles and never cries.   
  
  


= = = = = = = = = 

  
  


_January 12th, 1992_

I told big brother what happened when he was out shopping a few days ago. He looked a lot like mum when she saw all the bruises on big brother – he went all stony and wouldn't talk. I knew dad wasn't home at that time so I told him that I hated dad and my New Years resolution was to pray to god every night to make dad die. I asked him if god was going to be angry at my prayer. 

And then brother said the best thing that made a lot of sense. He told me that there either was no god or if there was he is an idiot who we should spit on. When I asked him why, he said that god had let someone like father be a priest so that he could hurt all the pretty girls in my year level. 

I never thought of things that way and the more I thought of it the more right it sounded. We have to go to church every Sunday and pray to god and tell him that we've been good but here's dad, beating up big brother all the time and he's a priest. Does god approve of dad making girls scream in the basement? If he does, then he's a bigger idiot than me. I wish god was dead as well so that my dad can't be a priest and hurt people. 

Big brother then said that 'in all likelihood' (big word), god didn't exist. He said that only stupid people believed in god and only stupid people would get hurt. He said that if no one believed in god, they wouldn't go to church and they wouldn't let their daughters come over to our place to scream and cry. All the smart people stay away from the church, and they don't get hurt. 

I think big brother is very smart. My New Years resolution is to no longer believe in god, or if there is a god, I have to remind him that he is the world's most 'disgusting creature'. I'm going to be smart just like big brother and tell people not to believe the lies anymore. I don't like seeing people hurt.   
  
  


= = = = = = = = =   
  
  


_January16th, 1992_

I feel a lot better now. I think throwing out my copy of the bible really helped. It means nothing anymore when dad tells me that I will burn in hell and suffer endless pain and be terrorized by the devil if I tell anyone what I hear from the basement. There is no hell – he thinks I'm a dumb idiot who will buy into his story and be afraid. I'm not so afraid anymore of hell because it doesn't exist. That's a good thing. Finding out that Santa didn't exist was not such a good thing. 

Big brother saw me typing yesterday and said that I was getting quite good at it for my age. He asked me whether I liked the laptop and I said yes. I like how the computer does everything I say and I like it how it doesn't yell at me or try to hit me. I think my computer loves me too. 

Big brother was wearing one of his new clothes today. It was a pink shirt with a frilly collar that I had seen some girls on TV wearing. He said that pink 'complimented' his skin tone.   
  
  


= = = = = = = = =   
  
  


_January 18th, 1992_

I got another present today even though it is not my birthday yet. Big brother looked really excited when he gave me these two books and told me that I should think about reading through them. One's got something to do with 'Photoshop' and the other one is about 'HTML code' or something. The books are pretty heavy but big brother said that since I like the laptop I should have a read through these books. 

Big brother smelled nice today. I wonder if he's helping himself to mum's perfumes.   
  
  


= = = = = = = = =   
  
  


_January 21st, 1992_

School holidays are almost over. Melissa, the girl with the nice long hair, she came over again today and I thought her parents were the most stupid people in the world for thinking that my dad was a nice person. Fortunately, big brother was around today and he said that dad taking us to the park would be a very good idea and that we could spend the day riding our bicycles. Melissa's parents loved the idea and said that they would pick Melissa up from the park and they even walked us to the park and stayed for the whole time in the end whilst big brother pushed our swings. 

I knew dad wasn't happy, even though he was chatting in a nice way to Melissa's parents. When we got home, he wouldn't stop hitting big brother. 

Big brother actually cried this time but it looked like a pretend cry to me, but it made me want to shiver anyway. It reminded me of all the crying that I hear in the basement all the time. Dad looked like a bee had stung his butt when big brother was rubbing his eyes with his hands and after kicking big brother once more, he ran out of the room. 

Not long after, big brother stopped crying and smiled that horrible smile again. I think that big brother could be a great actor and told him so and he laughed aloud that made me very frightened. It didn't sound like my brother at all but he told me that he was going to get rid of dad. I asked him how but he shrugged, the way older girls do, and covered his smile with his hand. I asked him why he did that and he asked me who it reminded me of when he did that. I told him he looked like those bigger girls at school and his smile grew bigger. 

I still don't get it.   
  
  


= = = = = = = = =   
  
  


_February 21st, 1992_

I haven't written for a month because I've been reading those books big brother bought me. I really like the books and he took me to the book store today to see if he could buy me some more. I think he was very impressed with the website that I made. It's all very easy actually, but brother says that I'm just very good at it. 

Wow – I'm good at something. No one's ever said that to me before and big brother looked deadly serious when he said it. I'm going to believe him. I'm good at something. I'm good at HTML code and making websites and I'm going to be even better still. I'm going to make him proud of me, so that he can smile those "I like you" smiles more.   
  
  


= = = = = = = = =   
  
  


_March 10th, 1992_

Ginny came over today. She was shaking like crazy even before she even stepped in. She's in my brother's class and she's round and fat just like me. Her plaits are very neat today but I think her mum did it for her. She knows what happens to girls who come to our house and she looked like she didn't want to have anything to do with us. 

Big brother just made it back from sewing lessons when Ginny's parents left and he stared at dad. He's got guts that I don't have. I could never look at dad like that let alone look at him like a teacher as if dad was doing something bad and wrong. I took Ginny's hand and tried to tell her it was all right and wanted to take her out the back door. 

But dad shouted at us and told us to get to our rooms and leave Ginny with him. Ginny was crying already and dad looked really happy about it. But big brother walked in front of dad, smelling of mum's perfume and dumped his belongings on the kitchen table whilst he got a drink. It was a hot day and he was wearing a short white top that showed his belly button and really short shorts. My brother's got long legs, white like milk. Dad was staring at him again, like someone had bitten him on the bum. 

Big brother then walked up to dad and flicked his hair back the way the girls do on tv and he crossed his arms and said to dad that he should let Ginny go. He even pouted in a very girly way that made Dad gasp but then Dad returned to normal and started smacking big brother around. I took the chance to be brave and pushed Ginny out the door before running up to my bedroom. 

Big brother cries these days when he is hit but Dad seems like he can't stand to see him cry or something. It can't be because he loves us can it? 

Poor Ginny – at least she only suffered a fright. Not like Melissa. I tried to talk to Melissa at lunch today but she just ignored me. She ignores everyone these days and doesn't smile anymore. Did I tell you that she had a pretty smile as well? I don't think she'll ever smile again. 

God, if you exist, you are a sick and filthy bastard. I hate you too and wish you were dead.   
  
  


= = = = = = = = =   
  
  


_April 1st, 1992_

Big brother's hair is long enough to tie up now. He spends a lot of time in the bathroom now and every night before he sleeps, he brushes his hair at least one hundred times. It is very shiny and reminds me of Melissa's hair. She cut hers last week during art class and the teacher was shocked. Why did you do that? she asked and Melissa just shrugged and began to cut other things. I think she'll have to get a new uniform next month – her parents will be angry. 

I finally asked big brother if he had been using mum's perfume. He said he has his own and that it's called 'deodorant' and that all young girls in his class use it. He said he was using a raspberry fragrance and asked if I liked it. I said that he smelled good but wondered why he was acting like a girl these days. 

He smiled and it made me shiver. I was very cold when I saw him smile and he must have seen me react because he then quickly reassured me that he knew what he was doing. He said he was doing everyone good but I told him that I didn't understand. He hid the smile behind the hand again and acted all girly with the blinking. He didn't answer my question and asked me how I was going with all the new books. I told him that I like them very much and he suggested that I start up a 'small business' and earn some pocket money making websites for people. 

Pocket money is good. I could save up and leave home and never have to see dad again. 

  
  


= = = = = = = = = 

_April 29th, 1992_

Dad is bringing young girls home when big brother is out doing his classes. He knows that I can't stand up to him like big brother can. I find myself eating more and more when I feel helpless. Big brother is becoming very concerned for my weight. He says that I weigh two times the weight of people my age and I told him that I couldn't help it. I eat whenever I'm not happy and I even begged brother to be home more often so that dad can't bring any more girls over. I even told him that dad was acting like he was avoiding big brother or something. 

He fidgeted with his plait and looked like he liked the idea that dad was avoiding him. It is like dad is doing all his hateful stuff only when he is sure big brother is not around. I can't believe my big brother can make dad scared, or whatever dad's feeling. I think big brother's plan is working, but how his plan is working I don't know. 

I've also been busy setting up that website company. I made some business cards and printed it out on some nice paper and brother had that laminated. I had five hundred cards at the start of the week but there are only sixty left. A lot of people were very interested in the advertisement that big brother and I made. I then put the ads into all the neighbour's post box and left 'contact details' on my website. It's got over two million hits now and I get plenty of email every day. Big brother suggests that I should charge about $40 an hour for making a website. He says that I should take an 'average' of five hours on the small business homepages and about ten for middle sized businesses. I think I'm going to be the richest six year old in my year.   
  
  


= = = = = = = = =   
  
  


_August 13th, 1992_

I can't believe that my bank account has over $20,000 dollars. I've found that I can actually make websites in under two hours but I bill people for five anyway, or ten if they are middle sized. I received an offer today of $5000 to make this website for a local franchise company! $5000! I can upgrade my laptop with that! 

I offered to split my bank account in half with big brother – since he really does deserve to have half. He came up with the idea of making websites in the first place. But he said that I did all the work and should keep it, but asked me if I would lend him some money so that he could buy some more clothes and makeup in the future. I said yes straight away. I will never deny my brother anything. 

I told mum about the business she didn't even know I had and she was overjoyed. She said I was smart and intelligent and that I was a genius. I told her it was big brother who started it all up and she took us two out to dinner. We haven't had dinner together for a long time and I really enjoyed it because dad wasn't there. 

Mum said that big brother had a good head for business and he really liked the idea. His glossy lips smiled the "I like you" smile that I also hadn't seen for a long time and he said he had more plans for me when I was ready. He said that I could earn much more money making and selling programs. 

PS – the waiter thought my mum had a 'really pretty daughter' and a cute son. 

  
  


= = = = = = = = = 

"_Miss Lola! Where did you get this?!"_

The older woman was actually startled, surprised by the intrusion she should have been able to detect. Salar's boy – well trained in all arts and doubtless 'walk in stealth' would have to be one of them. Kurei's face was ashen grey as he stared at the screen and the diary entries and he was trembling from foot to toe. 

"Relax kid. Salar gave this to me and said I could look at it. How did he manage to get his hands on Milluki's diary?" 

Kurei drew a chair beside Lola and wearily sank into it. The light from the monitor accentuated the dark eye bags and the hollowing cheeks, giving him the look of a man too old for his years. His nights away from his mentor must have been fitful rather than restful. 

"Mentor bought out one of Milluki Zoldick's close assistants. She was naïve and innocent and I was told to get the information from her. Poor thing – she thought she was doing something completely harmless. I swear to you Miss Lola that this disc will be destroyed once mentor's objectives are accomplished. No one else will see it." 

He felt her hand reassuringly clamp onto his shoulder. "My brother didn't use to be like this – unscrupulous and immoral, a downright bastard with no honour. I'm sorry you ever met him." 

"No, please don't say that about mentor. He's been very good to me." 

She gave a rude snort and quickly smothered it as she remembered the time but the frown retained its severity. "He beat the shit out of you and threatened to break your legs." She stopped suddenly and her frown disappeared, replaced by a coy smile. "Although I must say that our plan is working. You've been gone for a week and he is getting nervous." 

"He is?" Kurei's wide eyes stared at her. 

"Yup. He even came to find me today and asked if I had seen you around. He appears to be most nervous and couldn't keep the worry from his voice. He told me in rather direct terms that you had no friends in Anime City so you have no place to hide out and he's at a complete loss as to where you could be." 

"He didn't suspect you were lying?" 

She winked deviously at him. "I was trained to lie at the age of two and have been lying all my life. Not even Salar can tell the difference from truth and falsity when it comes to me. And he wouldn't suspect that I'd lie on your behalf, so he totally believed me when I said I hadn't seen you." 

"So mentor has no clue where I am?" 

"He's worried that people from Northside have nabbed you. Well, he didn't say it out loud, but you could tell that was exactly what he was thinking. So you just stay here for another week or so and I'm sure Salar would be sticking up posters that say: 'Kurei, come home! I promise not to hurt you again!'" Lola giggled at her own joke and Kurei wished he could share in her mirth. He cast his eyes down, glum and stroked the brown toy in his lap, his only company for the past week. 

"He probably just wants Quacker back," he muttered, letting the plastic bills nibble at his fingers. 

"Illumi Zoldick gave Salar that toy didn't he?" 

"Yes, he did. That man's……you've read the diary entries. I wouldn't want to cross the Zoldick if I could help it." 

"I haven't finished reading it yet. I don't know if I want to." 

"You should Miss Lola, you really should. You'll be introduced to quite a character." 

"I take it that you've read through the whole diary then." 

"I have," he replied gravely, his indigo eyes finally meeting hers for the first time. "It's just another person's story and how they deal with their hardships and trials and sufferings. There are two billion other stories like that in the world. What makes his remarkable is that Illumi's intentions were honourable but his method questionable. I've seen plenty of cases of domestic violence and child abuse, but what he did…" 

Kurei swallowed hard and looked away. "What he did, the way he did it is what attracted mentor's attention." 

"I'm guessing that it's not what one would call 'positive attributes'?" 

He gave her a smile that shockingly reminded her of Salar – a self-mocking and slightly cynical smile tinged with fatigue. "It depends on what perspective you look at him. What's negative to you could be positive to others." 

"Bah! Damn you sound just like my brother and will never give a straight answer!" she exclaimed immediately before realizing her mistake. A flash of pain passed through Kurei's eyes and he dipped his head down in depression again. She shook her head. 

"Sorry kid – I was never known for being sensitive." 

"I was wondering Miss Lola…how did you come to be friends with Mentor?" 

It was his turn to realize that he said something wrong for the grin on Lola's face was more than wicked. It was devilish and diabolical and reminded him of Kaéry when he was conceiving a plan to ruin someone's business. 

"Oh, it was a very amusing incident. Let me reassure you that your respect for your mentor will _plummet_ after hearing this." 

That got his attention. He sat bolt upright and leaned forward, eager to catch every word. 

"You know how Salar is absolutely terrified of women?" 

He frowned. "Terrified wouldn't be the way I would describe it. We use 'despise' at Vallanor." 

"Of course!" she cackled, "he wouldn't want people knowing that a _General_ of Vallanor is actually afraid of women so he covers it up by _pretending_ to be contemptuous of women." How Kurei was reminded of Kaéry just now when Lola's usual aloof and impassive manner was cast aside and she allowed herself to indulge in gossip. 

"He was about eight at that time and he was thinking: 'Oh, since I'm so smart, I don't think Northside will pose any of a challenge to me' sort of thing. How wrong he was. The first people who jumped on him weren't muggers, robbers, serial killers or psychopaths. He was in my guild's heartland and two of my older female associates, generously busty I might add, jumped him." 

Kurei worked his mouth and tried to make the words come out. "What do you mean by 'jump'?" 

"Oh, just the usual. They were mild nymphomaniacs and Salar _was_ a cute boy, my husband included. They had him cornered against a wall and were, how to say this…pushing their breasts into his face whilst crooning about how they'd ravish him." 

"Dear lords no!" 

"Yes! He was so frightened that he couldn't even squeak for help!" Lola's shoulders rocked violently as she tried to contain the laughter and not wake up the entire house. "Fortunately, I was there at the time and told my dear sisters to back off. Whilst Salar didn't exactly wet his pants, I think that incident permanently scarred him for life and he therefore has a phobia for women – breasts in particular." 

"I don't get it Miss Lola. If mentor is afraid of women, why is his best friend a woman?" 

Lola shook her head with a patience one reserved for slow children. "We are _brothers_ by blood pact. I used to be the biggest tomboy in town and even though I have long hair, I fought like a man, drank like a man, argued like a man and generally was pretty mannish. I think Salar actually looked effeminate compared to me. He doesn't see me as a woman – he treats me as a brother he never had." 

"So you mean all those rumors about a romantic relationship back then…" 

"Complete and utter jargon. It was _so_ off the mark that we didn't even bother with it because it was so ridiculous." 

After only a moment's hesitation, Kurei spoke up. "Mentor…doesn't really talk about you at Vallanor Miss Lola, if you don't mind me saying. I only learnt about your friendship with mentor when I came back to Anime City last month." 

She knitted her eyebrows. "What bought this topic up?" 

"People probably don't know," Kurei continued as if she never interrupted, "but Mentor is actually a terribly lonely person. Lord Vallissa's five Generals were established a long time ago, so they are all good friends and mates. Mentor is like the odd one out, the one who they think is an intruder trying to steal their territory. He's working really hard to prove to Lord Vallissa that he deserves the Generalship so he's completely engrossed in his work. His Marshall doesn't give a scrap about his General and our department is small and often under resourced. Mentor…really needs someone who can help him by his side." 

Lola turned away and sighed, tapping on the keyboard for the procedures to shut down. She knew what Kurei was trying to get at, and it made her wonder whether smuggling Kurei into her house was actually just another ploy by Salar to get his protégé to persuade her to join Vallanor. Kurei sensed her tight agitation and vehemently denied her thoughts. 

"It's not like that Miss Lola! I swear Mentor didn't get me to come here and try to lie to you. I'm too stupid for that and you're too smart to be fooled by that. Please, don't take it the wrong way. But Mentor…" 

"Kurei, no more. I am not going to be part of his Department. I live in Anime City. I am married to Karasu and I have the most adorable child who I'm not going to give up for the world. If brother can't handle the stress and pressure, why doesn't he just drop the damn title and come back home?" 

He balked at her irritated tone and cautiously tuned his voice to neutral. "He's completely taken by Lord Vallissa. I asked him once why we couldn't just leave and he hit me for even suggesting that and said that if I ever uttered something so blasphemous again, he would kill me. He won't leave Lord Vallissa." 

"What is so fucking damn good about Lord Vallissa?" Lola sighed, dejectedly watching the monitor switch off. Kurei was silent for a moment and she turned to see whether he was struggling with the answer. He was sitting taunt and stiff and he looked like he was ready to cop a beating for saying something that he should not say. 

"I should imagine that mentor sees a lot of you in Lord Vallissa." 

She really didn't want to hear that.   


* * *

  


**Sunday, 12:30pm, Endless Parade**

Gon was with Killua on Sunday afternoon, implementing one of Mito's suck-up-to-the-Director's-son strategies. Thankfully, out of the many plots and plans that his manager hatched, spending time being friends with Killua was actually enjoyable. In short – this was the one and only chore that he liked to do and didn't really consider a chore. Surely, if you liked doing something, you couldn't call it a chore now can you? 

Today, early in the morning, they had received a message dispatched by Shura which immediately bought them together to do some rapid talking. The message informed them of Kaéry and Xelan's plans. Gon felt his eyebrows literally fry off whilst Killua had bit the insides of his cheeks to stop the grin from splitting his face apart when the older child spread the news. Both had originally planned a relaxing, turmoil-free day but plans were hardly reliable in Anime City. At any moment, something drastic would happen and you found yourself either formulating plans to stay away from it or get into the thick of it. 

"What won't they try?" Killua said, smirking with unfettered glee. "We're not going to tell any of the adults about this ok Gon? When someone entrusts a secret to you, you swear to maintain the secrecy upon your honour otherwise you face the wrath of the other actor." 

Gon dubiously studied Killua's ever ecstatic features and felt shivers running up and down his spine at Killua's expectant stare. "You're starting to sound a lot like Hisoka with the Code Duello stuff. Don't you think we're a bit too young for that?" 

"Don't try to lead the topic astray. I need your confirmation to secrecy or I ditch you here, tell everyone that you're a snitch and never talk to you again." 

Gon rolled his eyes. "Well, since you put it that way, can I really say no?" 

The Director's son gave a dismissive laugh. "I doubt that you were going to run off to Xelan's parents and dob on him anyway. But you do look troubled. Ok – what's worrying you now you worry-wart?" 

Gon never liked that nick name but he conceded that it was an appropriate nick name. Out of all the child actors at Saturday school, he found that he had a propensity to be the most worried and nervous of the lot hence earned the informal title of 'worry-wart'. 

"I just hope we all get our stories right so we don't stuff up Prince Kaéry's plans." 

"They didn't give us details because they don't expect us to hand a story over to their, whom I predict to be anxiously inquisitive, parents." 

"They don't?" 

Killua made a face, half in awe and the other half in disgust. "Yes – because then it'd look too much like a set up if everyone was repeating verbatim a script that they'd prepared. Xelloss and Karasu are very intelligent people so Kay is playing it safe." 

"But if we all say different things to their parents, how is that playing safe?" 

"Use your brain for once Gon!" Killua said in exasperation and lightly rapped his knuckles on Gon's temple. "The parents aren't expecting stories. They're expecting observations and that's where the genius of the plan comes in. We all have different degrees of observation – some observe more than others, so everyone's account will be different. It has to be different and it's going to look even more convincing that way." 

Gon groaned. "I can't understand these twists and turns. You just tell me what to do, and like the good little actor I am, I'll do it and I'll do it convincing and right." 

"Glad to hear that!" Killua gave him a wide smile. "If Filia ever comes to you for information, just be vague and suggestive and don't give too many details. She'll just think that you're not a very observant person." 

His friend resented that suggestion but swallowed his protest to ask the question "But what happens if Miss Filia does press me for more information, given that she's likely to be desperate?" 

"You don't know any details. You restate that you only know what you know and have never given it any thought. We have to avoid the feeling that this is all a set up remember? So none of us have any lines remembered. You might have a few that you'd like to say in your head, but that's it! Don't make it complicated. The best lies are often simple." 

"Hail the genius Liar, Prince Killua." 

"Ha ha. I know you're just jealous. Imagine all the extra freedom you could have if you could lie to your manager more effectively." 

Gon openly grimaced. "Today is Sunday, no mentioning my manager day." 

"Just remember, we are playing the outsider this time. We're not the main actors so we don't know anything for sure and we may find some things strange in their behaviour but never thought to question it. Always say that they hold hands whenever you've seen them, that they give each other 'looks' and that Kay is very possessive over Xelan's attention and vice versa." 

"But Killua," Gon scratched behind his ear, infuriating his friend once more with his blank expression, "they do do that." 

The albino smiled evenly, showing two rows of pearly white teeth. "Then we can tell our conscience that we're not lying and telling the truth and the whole truth and nothing but the truth." 

"So…does that mean they _are_ gay then?" 

"I don't know," Killua said, shrugging off an issue which clearly didn't give him cause for concern. "Of late, I've discovered that relationships are a very complicated thing indeed. People may act in a certain way towards each other, but depending on who does it with who, you may get totally different ideas." 

"Such as?" 

"Take my dad and 'mum' for example. Are they really a couple? All of Anime City seems to think so, but only we at Hunter Works know that the whole thing is a sham. For all we know, Dad is probably having a wonderful time cracking up at the outrageous stories that the press make for him on this little issue." 

"Killua?" 

"Yes?" 

"Do you still believe that the Director and Miss Kikyou being together is just an act?" 

Killua sucked in his breath and eyed him sharply. "Not you too Gon, you can't believe the papers!" 

"Well," Gon looked around, unable to meet Killua's unwavering gaze, "I mean, I do have my own powers of observation and if you think about it, Miss Kikyou's role in Hunter x Hunter is _really_ small, and I mean _really_ small. Now, do you really need to go into a whole 'family charade' over five lines of dialogue?" 

Killua refused to answer and stalked off, leaving Gon jogging beside him to catch up. 

"Look, I'm not making fun of you or anything Killua, but some things are only obvious to idiot people like me. You know there's that proverb or something which confirms that. We're both actors – we know when people are acting. It doesn't feel like they're acting. Killua, I'm just hoping you're prepared for the day when they do announce that they're lovers." 

He had been anticipating uncontrollable shivers at the possibility Gon put to him and imagine the surprise he endured when it didn't affect him at all. He stopped dead in his tracks and incredulously looked at Gon. 

"Oh my god. I think I'm ok with that." 

Taken aback by Killua's calm, Gon pressed a palm to his friend's forehead to check that everything was still properly functioning inside. 

"No….anger or sense of betrayal?" 

"I suppose not," Killua tapped his chin, rolling his eyes in thought. "I mean, sure, the pains they took to cushion the possible transition is questionable and involved a fair amount of lying and deception, leaving me in the dark to look like a fool whilst everyone kind of worked it out. But Kikyou's been playing mum for the past month or so now that I wouldn't feel uncomfortable calling her mum. Strange isn't it?" 

"I think the Director knows you very well Killua." 

"He sure does. I'm possibly going to embark on the greatest change in my life and I think it's ok. I think I'm very fortunate." 

"You are – Kay and Xe aren't taking it as well as you for sure." 

Killua dramatically clasped his palm over where his heart should be. "It's because I have a great dad who's smart and intelligent and I'm relatively sane and not hideously stubborn. Which reminds me – we shouldn't divulge any of this information to Kurapika ok?" 

"Aww…I don't want to have to lie to him." 

"Too bad Gon, but Kurapika's on Filia's side and Filia's _very_ good at manipulating people." 

"I suppose so." 

"Hey, speak of the devil! There's my brother-to-be!" Killua tugged Gon's sleeve and pointed to a café. Sitting on the sidewalk over coffee and sponge cake was Illumi, heavily engaged in conversation with a woman they had never seen before in Anime City. They managed to catch glimpses of feather layered black hair, pale, almost ivory grey skin and the corner of blood red lips. 

"We should go and say hi. I still feel bad that Menchi and her sister still maltreat Illumi at the studio." 

Killua acquiesced to the suggestion and they skipped across the road and ambushed Illumi with their biggest and cheekiest grins. 

"With your girlfriend bro?" 

Gon was frantically tugging the back of his shirt, vying for his attention to turn to the woman sitting across Illumi who had taken to the intrusion well, without a flicker of emotion to be exact. 

Her midnight blue eyes would have been horrifying had she been in a bad mood, but for now she casually looked down upon them as one would with insignificant insects. 

There was no denying it however. Her beauty rooted Gon to the spot and his legs felt weak, so weak that he could collapse and continue to quietly drink in the image that had him enthralled. Presumably, Killua choked on the same reaction. 

"Have I got some chocolate still on my face Illumi?" she leaned forward and quietly asked. He hastily assured her to the contrary and shook the two boys out of their stupor. 

"Wow big bro – a pretty girlfriend!" Killua said in an explosive breath, still unable to tear his eyes away. 

"Please Killua. Dad has taught you more manners than this. Sorry Miss Valerie – allow me to introduce my impudent brother and his equally impudent friend – Killua Zoldick and Gon Freecs. Please, do forgive them Miss Valerie, they are only young." 

She emitted a low laugh and patted Gon's cheek with icy fingers to show that she didn't take offense to the situation. The sting of the chill from her fingers blasted Gon back to reality and he recoiled from the touch. 

She blinked and Illumi wondered what he had ever done wrong so that Killua and Gon decided to act up on one of the most important conversations of his life. 

"Miss Valerie, I'm so terribly sorry for their erratic behaviour. I assure you that they're not usually like this. Please, Killua, I'm in the middle of something here. Could you just – " 

"It's ok Illumi. Don't sound so upset. Waiter! Another two seats for these two young gentlemen please." 

Illumi was lost for words – she actually wanted the two to sit down?" 

"So big sis, if you're not big brother's girlfriend, who are you then?" 

Illumi inwardly winced and wanted to tape Killua's mouth shut. He knew his distress was visible and it felt like his future career was falling to pieces. 

"Prospective buyer. I'm very interested in your brother's designs in fact. I've got some important functions coming up and I've been advised that I should look the best for these occasions and out-shine every other female at the functions. Who better to turn to than the designer behind Fantasia's clothing?" 

"You're the most beautiful lady I've seen you don't need to dress up," Gon mindlessly babbled. She narrowed her eyes with catlike playfulness and laughed again. 

"What a flattering tongue this little boy has. Alas, Anime City is home to many gorgeous and stunning women. You just haven't met all of them." 

"Oh, I have!" Gon sat forward in his chair and eagerly spoke to the woman whom he'd instantly reverred as a goddess. "I've been to more functions and balls than I care for, because my manager wants me to establish connections. I've seen ladies with faces pasty with makeup to cover up their flaws and ugliness. But you ma'am, you don't need anything at all. I'd say you were the most beautiful lady in all Anime City!" 

Killua wondered what had overcome Gon, who he could picture as an eager dog fiercely wagging his tale as the older woman laughed once again at the compliments. She was undeniably striking in her incredibly defined and distinguished features of sharp chin and high cheekbones. But he didn't find the beauty attractive – he found the aesthetic face something to be admired and admired only. It did not instill in him the kind of adoration and worship that had overwhelmed Gon. Not that it was an offence to Miss Valerie or anything, but had he been a man, he would have steered clear away from her. There was some deformity in her character that couldn't be observed from the surface, but the sense of deformity helped him to overcome the initial awe of her immortal beauty. 

Judging by the way that his brother looked like he was en guarde confirmed that Illumi shared similar opinions. 

"Well Mr Zoldick, give my regards to your mother and tell her that I will most definitely be dropping in Fantasia in the next two days to get a good look at the fabric. Can you loosen up a bit and give me a smile? I think you'd look quite pretty if you smiled a bit more." 

Illumi gave a tentative laugh and shook his client's hand and after a few more words of formality watched the tall and gaunt figure trace her way through the parked cars to her black Porsche. When the car was well out of sight, he expelled an enormous breath and slumped into his white plastic chair, clutching at the cramps gradually easing up in his stomach. 

"Miss Valerie is a very polite person but just sitting and talking to her gives me the creeps," he said, looking wearily at his brother who gave a small nod. 

"She looks like a rich woman." 

"I suppose she is – you know how ambitious and determined women are these days. They are successful entrepreneurs in their own right and it shows when they're negotiating. Think of it this way Killu: women have bought their powers of bargaining from the markets to the corporate world. What a terrifying turn for the world." 

"Big brother, there's something strange about her…." 

"It's her eyes," Illumi shortly replied, taking a sip from his coffee. "I've figured out that they either don't blink often enough or they have a way of seeing right through your soul and into your secrets." 

"Or maybe both." 

"Maybe," the older brother replied, draining the entire cup before setting it back onto the saucer with trembling hands. "But it's a shame – that incredible beauty wasted. What's the point of beauty if you cannot attract people with it?" 

"Is there any way that you can just reject her business?" 

Illumi shuddered and reclined back into the chair again, hoping that the sun could start up the circulation of his frozen blood. "In this world Killu, money talks and I let money talk to me this time. She's offering a sum that I cannot refuse, not even if I'm crazy. If I can just get the advance deposit alone, my doll shop is well on its way to coming into existence." 

"I've never seen her around before. You thinking what I'm thinking?" 

"Yes – I think she's related to Vallanor." 

"Could she be like Salar, you know, a General of Vallanor or something?" 

Illumi shook his head. "No – she's got more presence and class than that. I think I may be dealing with Lord Vallissa's wife." 

* * *

**Author's Notes:******

Even though the reception for the fanfic was weak in the last chapter, I place quality over quantity. Thank you for the **very** insightful reviews. They have made my day. A big thanks to Queen of Vegetasei and her opinions about my original characters. I know that many people do not like AU fanfiction dotted with original characters whom they're not familiar with and I thank you very much for giving my story a shot and finding that it was to your liking. Greatest appreciation for the time you spent reading and reviewing my fanfic. I say this to all the people who do because my chapters are always so damn long. As per the finer points of your review, I will contact you through email - communication is more effective that way. 

To all the loyal readers - thank you for continuing to stick by this fanfic. My exams are over, my clerkship is almost over meaning that updates should become more regular come Christmas and New Year. I love the holidays. 

Seasons Greetings to everyone and have a safe holiday. 

Yomi   



	21. Chapter 21: Revelations

**A Hunter Fanfic**

**Hunter Works**   
By Yomi 

* * *

**Disclaimer:** Hunter x Hunter is copyrighted by Yoshihiro Togashi, Shounen Jump Weekly, Shueisha and Nippon Animation 

* * *

**Chapter 21 – Revelations**

He couldn't avoid him forever, and both of them knew that. So how come the other was still being so stubborn and refused to spare him a single glance? They were flat-mates for goodness sakes! 

The kiss happened yesterday in the morning, before he left with Legato to confront his aunt with the news of Iori's insanity. His baby cousin had gone insane beyond all hope, committing one atrocity after another but here he was, pre-occupied with a kiss he had with another man. 

He had to readjust his priorities. 

The front door clicked open and Illumi sulked in, head dipped low, eyes covered by the curtain of his dull black hair. That mane had been lustrous and luminous when Illumi first arrived in Anime City, but in a mere month and a half, it had become as lifeless as straw. 

"Illumi – " 

"Got work, can't talk," he replied hastily and made straight for his bedroom in quick, hurried steps. Hisoka sprang off the couch and intercepted him, pinning his most severe gaze onto the frail man. 

"There's always time to talk. You've been avoiding me like the plague since yesterday. You wouldn't go out to dinner with me and ignored me this morning. This…_thing_…between us can't be ignored!" 

"I'm not in the mood to talk about this Hisoka." 

"When will you be in the mood then? Tell me, go through your diary and find a time –" 

"_Don't do this to me Hisoka!"_

The magician balked and stepped back but his hands tenderly reached up to brush aside the long fine strands of black hair, hooking it behind the ears, to get a better look at Illumi's expression. His face was twisted in grief, torn by an inner struggle and through blood shot eyes Hisoka beheld immeasurable pain. 

"We can't ignore what happened between us," Hisoka said softly yet maintaining a gentle firmness in his tone. He pulled Illumi to him but he cringed as his fingers wrapped around naked forearms as cold as marble. 

"Goodness, you're freezing. Where have you been?" 

Illumi shook himself free of the magician and dumped himself onto the couch, slumping uncharacteristically. Hisoka immediately went to the kitchen, set the kettle boiling and made Illumi a hot cup of tea. 

"I was with Lady Valerie," Illumi said after taking a small sip of the bitter liquid and gave a weary sigh. "I felt like I was sitting with a tiger who's ready to pounce the moment I showed any signs of weakness. Do you know what I'm talking about?" 

Hisoka shook his head but remained attentive, so Illumi tried to explain it to him. 

"It's like you're being watched by someone dangerously observant. Their eyes are forever fixed on you with an intensity that could melt your bones. They're not just listening to your words – they're scrutinizing everything you're doing, taking in your nuances and calculating how best to bring you down." 

"What the hell are you doing with those kinds of people then?" 

"She's wife to a very powerful husband," Illumi said, sighing again and his eyelids fluttered like the frail wings of a dying bird until they were shut. Hisoka took the cup from him and placed it on the coffee table. "If I can have Lord Vallissa's backing, all my dreams will come true." 

When he felt the man beside him go rigid, Illumi cracked open an eye to see the dark frown on Hisoka's face. But he did not feel intimidated. A saddened smile curled on his lips. 

"It is not your place to approve or disapprove of who I choose to come into contact with Hisoka," he said in an apologetic manner which also sounded like he had no choice, thus all the more infuriating because of the lack of remorse. 

The cords of muscle on Hisoka's neck were visibly showing and a lone drop of sweat trickled down the side of his face. Ever so slowly, he leaned towards Illumi until he was close enough for the latter to see real fear in his eyes. 

He said in a voice thickened by a sluggish tongue, "I've heard that Lord Vallissa is an extremely dangerous man. He is someone that even Salar would obey, the same Salar who would bow to no one. And around Salar, he's gathered to him all sorts of crazy people who can look death in the eye and laugh." 

"You mean Misha?" 

"He's contacted you already?" 

Illumi pressed his body further into the yielding couch. "Yes – he wanted to buy the design for the sash I made for Dougy. He offered a sum I could not refuse." 

Hisoka forced his fingers to stop fidgeting with the hem of his shirt and ordered his teeth to release his lower lip. "And what did you think of him? Did you meet him in person?" 

He nodded and reached for the tea again, taking another delicate sip. "He's just a lunatic, extravagant, an outrageous man not capable of subtleties. Nothing I couldn't handle. Nothing compared to Lady Valerie." 

"Illu, please be careful." 

Illumi gave a meek nod but never saw the kiss coming until he felt himself responding to it. 

When Hisoka had to break away for air, he violently pushed him away and savaged his lips with the back of his sleeve. "Now why did you have to do that again?" 

Hisoka gripped the front of Illumi's shirt and mercilessly yanked him forward so that they were nose to nose. The deadly seriousness in his expression bordered on anger. "Because it felt damn right and you know it." 

Vainly prying at the steel grip, Illumi gave his most threatening growl. "It's wrong you fool. Wrong!" 

He found himself completely encircled by Hisoka's uncompromising arms and had no room to struggle. He shied away from Hisoka's hot breath on his cheeks . 

"If it feels right then it's never wrong. Never! Stop struggling and accept it!" 

Instead of breaking away, Illumi suddenly lunged forward and sank his teeth into Hisoka's exposed collarbone. He gasped but made no move to release Illumi, even as a wetness began to form, a mixture of Illumi's panting breath and his blood running freely. Illumi made a face of disgust at the metallic taste in his mouth, but Hisoka still held him firmly in his arms. 

"Don't think this decision doesn't make me afraid Illu," Hisoka whispered, stroking his hair. "I'm still scared half witless. I don't know if my friends will think I'm abnormal and laugh behind my back. Silva is most likely never going to hire me again and I might never get another job in Anime City." 

He relaxed his grip enough to see Illumi's face but did not feel disheartened by the dullness in Illumi's eyes or his perfectly neutral expression. "But what can I do? It was as if I've never been truly alive until yesterday, when that kiss shocked me back into living." 

"You are confused Hisoka," Illumi finally raised his eyes up to him, eyes more unreadable than hieroglyphics of an long lost civilization, "because you're under a lot of stress and pressure right now. You're worried about your cousin but you can't do anything to help so you're feeling helpless and vulnerable. I was the first plastic floatie you latched on to when you were drowning in that chaos of emotion. This feeling you have for me – it won't last." 

"But you responded to the kiss." 

He shrugged. "Our bodies respond to touch. It's primal and innate but it doesn't necessarily bear the thought of love if it responds." Illumi's indifference then turned into a cruel smirk. "Don't tell me you've been feeling this liveliness with every woman you've screwed." 

Unexpectedly, Hisoka did not become angry and Illumi hid his confusion and disappointment from his face. He quietly watched Hisoka's equally undecipherable body language but braced himself nevertheless for another beating. He could hear his own heart thudding away in his ears bearing no ill or good tidings, just a dreaded inevitability that he might never know Hisoka well enough to control him. 

Finally, the red haired man spoke, in a calm manner which evidenced cracks around the edges. "How do I prove it to you then Illu? Do you want me to abstain from anything physical just to show you that I still feel alive around you? Tell me how you want to be convinced, or is it that you just don't want to be convinced?" 

Illumi grit his teeth and muted a hiss. "Very well. You can try to convince yourself _after_ your cousin's problems have been sorted and life is back to 'normal' for you." 

"But I don't know how long Iori's problem is going to take resolve. It could be years!" 

Illumi didn't flinch from the outburst. "Can you wait that long?" 

After only the most imperceptible hesitation, Hisoka nodded and grated out a 'yes'. 

When Illumi casually returned to his room, Hisoka's cell phone rang and he was called to an emergency Ex Club meeting. Great. More complications.   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~ 

  
  
  


**Elysian Mall**

Karasu was looking for a gift for his wife and his quest for such gift took him to the shopping central of Anime City – Elysian. Run by Lord Hades, Elysian was established at about the same time as the first studios, Graude Foundation, Side 7 and Toriyama Studios, were set up and has been host to all the award shows, balls and parties since. 

"Took your time getting here Xelloss!" he growled at the purple haired man who was jauntily walking up to him with an unaffected smile, as if the world could do him no wrong. Karasu smothered his jealousy and peered down at the jewellery. He still couldn't help sneaking several annoyed glances at the very wide smile. 

"Ok, spill it, what's got you so uppity today?" 

Xelloss' jubilance never wavered. "Xe's being a good boy. He went out with Fi and the jerk last night to dinner but called home afterwards. Of course, he didn't sound too happy but at least he's still talking and not giving me the silent treatment." 

"Is that really a good sign?" Karasu asked with pangs of worry beginning to throb at the sides of his temples. 

"It has to be. It means he knows what he's doing and he knows what his feelings are. There's nothing more bewildering than being confused and not knowing what or how to feel, or how your own son is feeling for that matter. I've got you to thank Karasu." 

"Why are you thanking me?" 

"I think Kaéry is helping Xe see through this transition." 

Karasu shuddered and his face lost a bit of colour, this topic being the cause of his worries. "I think Kay is helping Xe _block_ this transition." 

Xelloss' unrepentant grin turned wicked and his eyes were narrow and shifty. "It's just all semantics. Get away from there. Lola isn't interested in sparkly things." 

"Are you seriously going to let the two wreak havoc and raise hell with your arms crossed? I was thinking of digging a hole in the backyard and hiring some builders to make me a bomb shelter." 

Xelloss' laugh was harsh and scathing. "Conflict only arises when you have two opposing parties evenly matched. In this case however," he smirked, "there is great disparity between the opposing parties. Kay and Xe versus insignificant bugs and worms. Our sons combined is like a steamroller and anything caught in their path is flattened without resistance. I predict things will work out rather well." 

They wandered off into the sporting section and Karasu helped himself to some golf clubs. 

"We're here to shop for your wife remember, not yourself. I didn't think Lola was one to be comforted by gifts though." 

"That'll teach me to stick up for strangers again. She barely spoke a word to me last night and didn't go to sleep either." 

"It's that bad? I'm sorry." 

The tall man snorted. "It's really not fair sometimes. She bosses me around like I'm an insubordinate." 

"No can do Karasu. You knew what kind of girl she was before marrying her. From her perspective, she feels that marriage has chained her to you considerably. 

"Great. So she sees marriage as some sort of prison. Just what I wanted hear," Karasu noted wryly and put back the clubs. 

Their mall trekking took them into the martial arts section of the sports store which was lined with arrays of weapons on the racks. Karasu stared at the display for a long time not knowing what to pick. 

"Come on Karasu. Let's go grab a drink. You're obviously too pre-occupied to even think clearly." 

Karasu let himself be dragged away and soon found himself immersed in the gloominess of a pub with dirty yellow lights studded into the ceiling at irregular intervals. Xelloss shouted him a cold, tall beer and the bitter taste of the revolting liquid made him shudder. 

"Tastes like crap," he choked. 

"That's supposed to be the idea. Feel like talking to me now? There're no reporters around." 

Karasu sighed and raked a hand through his hair, wondering how Xelloss could remain so…_buoyant_ in times like this when his separated wife was seeing a new man and a custody fight was impending over his son. He released a sigh. 

"I've been nervous since Salar's back," he finally admitted, steeling himself to take another large gulp of beer. "Seeing the way Lola just lights up when she sees him makes me wonder why she's still married to me." 

"You're not suggesting –" 

"No," Karasu muttered irritably, abruptly pushing the glass away causing the amber liquid to spill. "I know she doesn't feel that way for Salar, but why is she with _me_ if she doesn't seem as happy as she could be?" 

"I think Lola is a satisfied woman." 

Karasu gave Xelloss a hard stare and said testily, "There's a difference between being 'satisfied' and being 'happy' isn't it? You can be satisfied, but it doesn't mean you're over the moon about it." 

"I think you're making a fuss out of nothing. She's with you – not like Filia and me, separated with a divorce on the way. What's there to complain about?" 

Karasu struggled to find the right words to say. "It's like…she stays because she _has_ to, because it's a duty. She doesn't like her new way of life but she shuts up and puts up with it and tries to look unaffected. If she's so goddamn discontent – argh!" 

"Hey, calm down! Calm down!" Xelloss grabbed Karasu's hands before they ripped out handfuls of glossy black hair. Keeping his voice tight and low, the trickster continued, "What do you expect? She's trying to fit in. Maybe she'll never fit in to Anime City after the life she's had, but so what? At least she's trying every day and is giving this marriage of yours a shot. If it's some lofty principle of 'duty' that's the only reason binding her to you, well, why can't she just ignore this duty? Why didn't Filia have the same sense of duty to me? Think about it you stupid man." 

"Hey!" 

"I'm here to help and I'm helping you by saying that your problems are ridiculous. People only give loyalty to another if they feel the other deserves their loyalty. You've got a strong and stable marriage. Don't ruin it with petty suspicions." 

Karasu didn't look as convinced as Xelloss had hoped. And then Karasu said the very words that he had feared to ever utter: "What if she's loyal to me if only because we have a son?" 

Xelloss shrugged aside the suggestion. "I have a son with Filia, but did that stop her from finding Valgarv." 

"Yes, but – _Holy Shit. Lola! Um…I was just having a drink with Xelloss!_" Karasu bolted out of his seat and stood to attention halfway through his conversation with his friend on seeing an all too familiar figure stride into the pub. 

Xelloss spun around with an evasive smile already plastered on his face, plausible excuses already being manufactured in his mind by the dozen. But he stopped short of greeting the newcomer who didn't show any signs of having heard Karasu. 

"Lola?" her husband called. 

No response. She called for a margarita. 

"_Lola!"_

She thanked the bar tender and began to sip the contents. 

Xelloss pulled Karasu back and forced him back into his seat. "It's not Lola!" he hissed in the man's ear. "It's not her! Lola never lets her hair down, now stay still!" 

"That's not Lola?" Karasu rubbed his eyes. He squinted through the murky darkness and dim lights and gasped. "You're right! Damn, I could have made a fool out of myself just then!" He abruptly paused and swung a deadly glare at Xelloss. "You tell this to anyone and I'll skin your hide." 

Xelloss emitted a small laugh and defensively held his hands up to show his assent. "Chill Karasu. I'm not going to tell anyone how you have to report all your movements to your wife like a good little soldier." 

He ignored the sounds of grinding teeth and laughed louder still. "I guess everyone already knows you're very much a controlled man, no longer master of his house, but hey, you have our sympathies." 

Karasu launched himself at the madly cackling fruitcake and attempted to throttle the life out of him. Xelloss was still laughing as he was being choked, and it came out in weak splutters of hilarity. 

Suddenly, an icy cold hand, whose touch numbed Karasu to the bone, broke his stranglehold over Xelloss and he reacted as if he had been scalded. 

"Salar! I'd never imagine finding you in a place like this with an alcoholic drink! What's got into you?" 

"I'm not Salar," Karasu said, an automatic reflex that he had fostered over the years of being confused with his identical twin. It came out unbidden and those were always the first words that he said if he was ever incorrectly addressed. 

The woman, whom he'd mistaken only moments ago as his wife, delicately raised an eyebrow and peered into his face the snapped her fingers when she noted his violet eyes. 

"Forgive me! You're Salar's brother, Karasu. I'd heard he had a twin, but you never really trust 'identical' until you see for yourself. And I have seen for myself. By all that is believable, if you put on coloured contacts, I wouldn't be able to tell you two apart." 

"I can't send the fear of god into people with a bare smile as my brother can," Karasu muttered and subconsciously straightened his clothing. "Who are you?" 

She was about to introduce herself when the heavy doors to the pub burst in with a loud bang followed by a heavy stamping of feet. 

"_Get her!"_

"Well well, they summoned an entire battalion just to find me. I guess I should feel honoured. Now, now, don't be so eager gentlemen. Manhandle me and give me a bruise and I'll sue your pants off." 

Xelloss and Karasu recoiled and had their backs firmly pressed to the wall to indicate that they were not acquainted with her and were very keen to mind their own business. 

Around twelve beefy security guards armed with batons stampeded into the premises and bought in with them blinding shafts of white light from outside as the door was flung wide open. Some patrons actually hid under the table. 

A single refined and elegantly dressed man picked his way through the round wooden tables and the guards instantly parted to let him through, almost afraid to touch him. With the light behind him, his hair shone like pure gold and his pale ivory coloured face took on an eerie, ethereal glow, imposing the presence of a divine being about him. 

"You are not welcome in Elysian, Valerie." 

A corner of her lips twitched. "Get a grip Hypnos. Do you think I'm committing commercial espionage just by ordering a drink in a run-down joint like this?" 

The man with the stiff golden hair gave a sharp clap and the security men surrounded Valerie. 

"These are Lord Hades' orders. You are not to step foot inside Elysian ever again. We have a right to physically eject you if you refuse to co-operate." 

"Touch me and I'll scream," she said, coldly eyeing the men whose hands were very near their long wooden batons. "I can walk by myself." 

She flicked aside the strands of hair that she had been twirling around her fingers and stalked out. But just she reached Hypnos' side, she paused and narrowed her eyes. 

"I'm truly disappointed by this outcome Uncle Hypnos. Things really didn't have to be this way you know." 

He visibly stiffened and stood more rigid than a statue. "I do not make things the way they are. You can thank your husband for this." 

She gave a humourless smile which all the security guards could not endure and had to look away. "Yes, I'll thank my husband then." 

On her own initiation, she left the pub with the security guards trailing like an entourage behind her, giving Hypnos meek, apologetic looks as they left. 

"Just make sure you _see_ her leave the building," he irritably ordered, then as if suffering a painful headache clutched his head and said, "I…need a drink. Can I have a glass of bourbon?" 

"Straight away my lord," was the bartender's hasty reply. 

Hypnos, Hades' left hand and also known in Saint Seiya fandom as the God of Sleep, spied on two A class actors slouching away in a dark corner trying to look inconspicuous. He took the glass of bourbon and sauntered over to their table although he gave a weary sigh when he sat down. 

"Ok gentlemen, I trust you'll give it to me straight. What were you doing with her?" 

Xelloss gulped. "With all due respect Lord Hypnos, we were here to discuss Karasu's imaginary problems with his wife. She came over mistaking him for Salar." 

A flicker of trouble passed through Hypnos' expression making it all the more glum. He propped his elbows on the table and drank deeply from the glass. 

"How can I forget about Salar? This has to be the Underworld's worst nightmare come true." 

Karasu flinched at the overpowering smell of alcohol on Hypnos' breath and suspected that the bourbon was not his first drink today. 

"Is she _the_ Valerie?" 

"Yes, and a very pissed off one at that. I don't think she ever forgave Lord Hades' public recognition of his real daughter, Integral. I think that's why she's asked her husband to give us so much trouble." 

"Surely the enmity between Lord Hades and his late adoptive daughter cannot be _that_ bad to go so far as to have her removed from the building?" 

Hypnos looked up at Karasu's quiet inquiry and felt his headache grow worse. He let out an audible groan and finished his drink, signalling to the bartender to fetch him another. 

"It all began to go wrong when Lord Vallissa appeared. Of course, I've never met him and I don't know enough about what happened between my lord and Miss Valerie, but Vallanor's imminent presence in Anime City is nothing but a revenge attack. This isn't reasonable, rational competition between two companies. This is a bitter fight between two private parties embroiling innocent bystanders, namely people like me." 

"Have Lord Hades and Miss Valerie tried…counselling?" Xelloss suggested. Hypnos regarded at him as if he was stupid and Xelloss suddenly found his half-empty glass of beer very interesting. 

"I've watched Valerie grow up. She's always been secretive and won't tell you anything unless she's sure you're loyal to her. I guess that's what the basic problem is – my lord Hades has found his real daughter and has discarded her for Integral, and she sees that as a breach of trust." 

Xelloss stroked his chin. "That sounds a lot like something Xelan would say." 

"Yes, but imagine Xelan twice as old and five times smarter with nasty, despicable people by his side to carry his bidding." 

Karasu sighed and ran a hand through his hair again to push away the fringe which constantly pricked his eyes. "It's never pleasant when love turns into hate. I doubt Xelan would ever hate his mother though. He loves her too much. Surely there are still mutual feelings of love between Lord Hades and Miss Valerie." 

Hypnos was already halfway through his second glass of bourbon and his tongue was coming looser by the minute. "Lady Persephone doesn't like Valerie and never has. Her blonde daughter is the rightful heir to Elysian, not some adopted pretender to the throne. I guess she will never agree to a truce, and if she says no, Lord Hades follows suit and says no and middle-men like me have to do the dirty work and look like bastards." 

They watched Hypnos struggle to keep his eyes open and made him suck on a lemon when he threatened to pass out. Face twisted in revulsion from the shocking sourness of the fruit, Hypnos wiped away the tears that had formed in his eyes. 

"I am not in a position to question my lord's actions and my personal feelings aren't worthy of consideration. You boys better be careful from now on." 

Xelloss frowned. "What's going to happen?" 

"War," Hypnos said curtly, face betraying fear, "war with Northside. Vallanor cannot possibly seek to undermine Elysian in its own territory, so it's making out new territory for itself. They have their sights on Northside and they're going to flush out the inhabitants and turn it into another paradise, a mini city which never sleeps. Light will finally come from Northside, Anime City will have a more respectable northern neighbour, but the cost will be tumultuous." 

"Cost?" Karasu echoed. 

"In human lives. If the Northsiders won't move, Vallanor's going to do it by force and there's nothing the authorities can do to stop them. In fact, they think Vallanor's doing them a service by flushing out all the filth and scum in there. I, the insignificant middle man doing another man's bidding, haven't been able to persuade Sergeant Kanon to see otherwise." 

"But Northside has nothing but filth and scum. Heck, even I'm inclined to agree that Vallanor will be doing us some good." 

Hypnos glared at Xelloss and made him look even more foolish. "You moronic man. They are still people in there, women and children, the disabled and the alienated. You'll be hearing the cracks of gunshots, and the smell of blood from the massacre will pervade the air for weeks to come. In your dreams, you'll hear the screams of women and children caught in burning buildings and the rank smoke will choke your breath. If we're ever going to deal with Northside, it's not going to be all out war." 

Karasu nodded in agreement. "There'll also be revenge attacks in Anime City as well. Imagine car bombs and suicide bombers. We'll be living in fear of our neighbours; people will stop gathering and attending social functions and if the threat does not go away, Anime City might as well be renamed Ghost City." 

"It can't be that serious," Xelloss scoffed. "If they were that capable, won't Northside have attacked us by now?" 

Hypnos tasted bile in his hiccup and he pulled a face, looking a bit green. "They've never had a reason to attack and we don't ever want to give them a reason to do so." 

"Damn," Karasu watched Hypnos bury his head in his arms. "I might have to think about moving away for some time to avoid this." 

"Then Vallanor will have won. They don't care about business here – they just want to destroy us." 

"Is there seriously no one who can talk to Miss Valerie apart from Lord Hades?" 

"Some intelligence from you at last Xelloss, but don't you think we would have tried before things got this far? Miss Valerie, dear little Valerie, left some twelve years ago when she was only a teenager who loved us all. Not a teenager any more now, no – a woman now without a single iota of femininity about her. Did you see the way she looked at me just then? So cold, so cold, so damn cold. No more feelings, no more softness within her, just naked steel and ambition that she shares with her ruthless husband. He shook his head dejectedly. "No – the only person who can talk to her will not talk to her. And I? I will continue to drink, and drink, and hope that the troubles will go away when I'm asleep." 

Two of Elysian's security guards came back to report on the success of their task but were instructed instead to help Lord Hypnos to his private chambers for he was too drunk and depressed to walk straight. 

When the door to the pub shut and they were enveloped in the gloom again, Karasu's phone rang. He received the call and his eyes widened. 

"We've got an emergency meeting at Hellsing studios. Lets move."   
  
  
  


~*~*~*~*~*~ 

  
  
  


**Hellsing Studios.**

As the Hellsing season, all thirteen episodes, had already been shot, edited and released, the studios were left vacant as if the inhabitants had merely gone off for a holiday. Which would be the case if the show proved successful and people demanded a sequel. 

Now however, their footsteps echoed around the corridors and their meeting place ghostly still. Too still for comfort. 

It was a medium sized gathering led by Kuroro von Drosgen and Alucard, who sat on the comfy sofas. Legato was made to sit on a backless stool and he had his hands firmly pressed in his lap. He would occasionally sneak a glance to either one of his sisters also in the room, but they turned their heads and ignored his plea. Hisoka arrived at the same time as Yomi, leaving Karasu and Xelloss to come last. 

"Oh, Legato's on The Stool. I wonder what he's done wrong," Karasu murmured to Xelloss as they took their seats, bemused by Legato's predicament. 

Kuroro cleared his throat loudly and when he was sure he had their attention, he began with the introductory speech. 

"Some of you here are unaware of a matter which concerns our fellow Ex Club member Hisoka. As you are all aware, Leona is with us once again. She has escaped from Northside and has bought ill tidings." 

Xelloss immediately snapped awake and gave Karasu a sharp nudge at the mention of Northside. 

"Although it was originally a private matter, the conduct of Legato must be made public. We have a traitor in our midst gentlemen. The news that Leona took with her from Northside may have something to do with Salar. He is still in the very thick of a particular matter which I will not reveal unless Hisoka grants me permission, but with all due respect to Karasu, Salar's silence on the matter has not done anything to wash away our suspicions of his deeds." 

"That being the case, our discussions about Hisoka's problem is strictly confidential. But what have we here? Alucard today has spotted Legato entering and exiting Salar's house in the wee hours of dawn whilst he was doing his morning jog around the neighbourhood. Neighbours have also confirmed that it is not Legato's first time to be in contact with Salar over the past week." 

Kuroro's voice changed from casual indifference to fierce condemnation, "What were you doing at Salar's place Legato, other than to act as the snitch?" 

Legato yelped and flinched from the severe gaze of his compatriots, all accusing him of betrayal. He sobbed and turned to them in pity, begging for forgiveness. 

"It has _nothing_ to do with Hisoka's problem. I swear to god! It has absolutely _nothing whatsoever_ with the matter!" 

"Then why will you not tell us the reason for your visits?" 

Legato flinched again, tormented by a shame they did not know about. "Please Kuroro, just trust me on this. I'm not a mole. I'm not passing on any of our discussions and whatnot onto Salar. I'm doing him a completely different service. Please, don't ask further." 

"Your silence leaves much to be desired, and if you cannot talk about what you've been doing with Salar and be open and accountable about it, then we can do nothing _but_ be suspicious." 

"Hisoka! Come on man, help me out here! You know I'm not that kind of person!" 

But the magician remained stonily quiet and looked to Kuroro for advice. 

"If I may ask some questions," Yomi delicately interrupted, smiling as if Kuroro had already approved. "Legato, can you at least hint at the nature of your dealings with Salar?" 

"Nature of my dealings?" Legato repeated like a dumb child. 

"That's exactly what I said." 

The accused hummed a bit with his eyes steadily trained on the dirty lines between the tiles on the floor as his mind wandered in thought. His mouth was dry and his voice rasped when he replied, "It's in the nature of physical labour." 

That gave everyone something to think about and it was Machi who gaped at her brother. 

"It's got to do with Salar being your mentor once, isn't it!" she exclaimed before covering her mouth under the fiery glares of the Ex Club members. Hisoka was immediately on his feet and thankfully Yomi and Alucard were there to prevent him from throttling Legato. 

"You ARE a traitor!" the magician roared as he struggled under the force pushing him back. "You work for him. You –" 

"Hisoka, I'm _not_ betraying you! God damnit, I'm not that kind of person." Legato mentally shouted curses at his sister but focused on his explanation so as to reduce the impact of the revelation. He breathed in deeply and counted to ten, waiting for the tremors in his body to quell before he dared to speak again. 

"Ok. I admit. Salar was my mentor but _only for half a year!_ He's not a real mentor – just someone I owe a heavy debt to." 

"He was mentor to you in what?" Xelloss questioned, his tone still unforgiving. 

Legato breath quickened but he brutally willed it to remain steady. "He coached me on how to act like a cool guy, how to act and how to dress so that I get the Trigun role and have my own base of die-hard female fans." 

Kuroro closed his gaping mouth. "He _taught _you that?" 

"Yes. I hadn't had a real job for almost two years and I wasn't not getting younger. This was years ago. I was desperate. So I went to the smartest guy in town to ask for some advice." 

"_You sold your soul to my brother for fame?_" 

Legato couldn't face Karasu. "Don't say it like that. It was only six months. I'm still my own person….sort of. Like I said, I just owe Salar a debt." 

Hisoka snarled and brushed off the two men who had ceased to hold him back. "So how did Salar ask you to repay this debt?" 

"Kurei's missing, Salar's unwell and he doesn't trust a hired stranger to look after him. So he called me. Let me tell you, he was as reluctant to call me as I was to _serve_ him. He had one foot in death's door when I responded to his call. I've just become a temporary substitute for Kurei." 

No one noticed Karasu pale and so they said nothing. 

"He has asked me no questions whatsoever," Legato spoke on. "In fact, he doesn't talk to me unless it's absolutely necessary. Salar _was_ an ok guy, but now, he's just damn creepy. God forsaken. I don't even want to be near him any more, but I'm bound by the debt that I must repay. He hasn't spoken a word about Hisoka's problem and he knows Lee is my sister but says nothing. I have not betrayed you. Please believe me." 

"Answer the question now," Yomi's unwavering smile and unfaltering smooth delivery of speech set Legato's teeth on edge, "What do you do for Salar?" 

"I take his orders. Every single order until he is well. He needs someone to prepare his meals. He needs someone to bring his mail in from the front door. He needs someone to look after his house. He needs someone to do the washing. He even needs a fucking person to pour him a cup of tea while he works. I'm surprised he doesn't need someone to chew food for him and breathe for him." 

"You mean…" Xelloss rolled his eyes looking for the right words, "you're like a slave?" 

Legato blushed and contented himself with mangling his coat rather than Xelloss' neck. Through clenched teeth, he said, "Salar is getting better now and doesn't need me to help me move about. But he lives like a king in his house and won't do anything remotely related to housework if he can find someone else to do it for him. I'm guess that Kurei used to have that job." 

"Who would have thought that the exuberant pretty boy was just another slave to a horrid master?" Machi commented with a dash of pity. "Lives like a king you say? Sure as hell acts like one too. Ok bro, since you haven't revealed anything about Leona or Hisoka, have _you_ seen anything out of the ordinary which could help us? Say…has he had any out-of-town visitors?" 

Legato racked his brains but ended up shrugging in futility. "The only time anyone visited was on Wednesday night when I arrived early at about seven thirty and I saw Lola leave just as I was two houses down." 

"I was with Lola and Kaéry in Elysian having dinner and we didn't get home until twelve that night," Karasu said with wide, frightened eyes. 

"Well, that person looked a lot like Lola. But I guess I could be mistaken – street lamps aren't that bright are they? What's wrong Karasu? You look like someone's just socked the living daylights out of you." 

Xelloss raised an eyebrow. "We almost mistook someone for Lola at the pub just then. Guess who it was." 

Kuroro massaged the sides of his temples. "Don't tell me the demons are gathering and we're heading on a collision course with doom." 

"Does anyone remember Valerie?" 

Half of them blankly shook their heads. Kuroro hesitantly raised his hand. 

"I met her once when I was eight, in broadway at that time playing the Artful Dodger. She was with Lord Hades then. I remember dad saying she was his daughter, his treasured jewel. Dad wanted me to be friends with her of course." 

"You're shivering like you've seen a ghost Dancho." Machi began to move forward in concern but Kuroro recoiled and shrank away. 

"No – that wasn't one of my happiest memories, but I've had worse. She wouldn't speak to me the whole afternoon we were together and Dad told me off that night for not trying hard enough. I was laughing my pants off the next day when she wouldn't talk to dad either. Imagine, an eight year old sitting there, just staring right past you because she considered you to be invisible. I really wanted to tell dad that he wasn't trying hard enough either." 

"I'd hate to interrupt Kuroro, but everyone knows Integral is Lord Hades' daughter." 

Kuroro nodded at Alucard's statement. "Valerie was Lord Hades' adopted daughter. I haven't seen her for almost twenty years. I didn't even know she was still in Elysian." 

"She's not." 

"Beg your pardon?" 

"I said, Drosgen, she's not," Karasu spat out. "We met Hypnos at Elysian just then. He was drunk and said too much. She's been gone from Anime for almost twelve years and Lord Hades had security guys remove her from Elysian this afternoon. There's an ugly little feud between them because she's married to Vallissa – Lord of Vallanor." 

Kuroro frowned. "Why are you so uptight Karasu?" 

"I remember Leona mistook Lola for this woman who was with Salar in Northside. Legato thought Valerie was Lola from two houses away. I thought she was my wife in the pub just then." 

Hisoka leapt out of his seat again. "It's her then! Where's she? I'll go and make her talk!" 

"If you can't sit still for fifteen minutes Hisoka, I'm going to have you tied up and gagged," Kuroro said testily. "So let's get this straight. The mistaken identity has been rectified. Leona saw Salar talking to Iori and if the woman with him was not Lola, it was someone who looked quite similar to her – Valerie?" 

Xelloss and Karasu nodded. 

"With Valerie involved, and her relationship with Lord Vallissa, we can safely presume that Vallanor has a vested interest in Northside. Agreed? Now what could this interest be?" 

"They want Northside," Karasu informed once again, "and they want to wipe Northside off the face of the earth. They probably want to incite the bloodiest gang war in Northside and have the inhabitants wipe each other out so they can walk in and pick up the pieces without any cost to themselves." 

Leona slowly nodded and warm anger began to build up inside her. Through her thick, slurred speech, she said, "They want to make Iori everyone's target. Lola said that other gangs despise the stuff that Iori's doing. I bet Salar was the one who suggested opening those brothels with children and I bet he's also been telling all the other gangs that Iori has his torture chambers." 

"To kill two birds with one stone," Machi whispered in horror, feeling sick to the pit of her stomach. "And at the same time, Salar's most likely telling Iori how to strengthen and consolidate his power and position so that they'll destroy each other." 

"_He set my cousin up just so he could profit from Iori's crimes?"_

Yomi expressed his irritation for Hisoka's uncontrolled outbursts by giving the latter a solid punch to the face. "Let's leave that matter till the end. Why don't we worry about the bloodbath first? Don't think the gang wars will be safely confined to Northside. It's going to spill into Anime City and we don't have the manpower to contain it." 

A fat drop of blood welled out of Hisoka's split lip but the magician merely blinked. 

"That's easy Yomi. Foiling Salar won't be hard. All we have to do is tell the other gang members what's _really_ happening and how it's just Vallanor pulling the strings in the shadows." 

"Oh," Yomi turned to Xelloss with painful sarcasm, "I suppose you plan on waltzing into Northside and go up to the guild members then say: hey, Salar's just put a blindfold over your eyes?" 

"Well…why not?" 

"You guys are more stupid than I had imagined. You don't have the slightest idea about the geography in Northside. We are not law enforcers – we have no power to defend ourselves if we get involved in this dreadful mess. I have a bloody wife and child – I'm not going to put them in danger!" 

"They want us to fear." 

"Well it's bloody working!" Yomi continued hotly. "And I don't see why we shouldn't be afraid. Damnit! I came here today expecting to be amused by Legato's interrogation on The Stool, not stumble across this awful discovery! Tell Kanon – tell him to bring in the riot police and have them on standby for the next six months but don't expect me to become personally involved." 

"You're not being very supportive, Yomi," Legato said quietly. The blind man would have narrowed his eyes if he could. 

"You tell me how we can be supportive without risking our damn lives!" 

"Iori and I used to hang around at that old Bowling place in Glamour Isle all the time when we were still kids who didn't come up to my aunt's hip. He considered himself an artist and was a prolific graffiti vandal. Someone dobbed him in to Aunt one day and he got six lashings for it but he laughed it off and moved from colouring people's walls to experimenting with colouring his hair. He almost went bald bleaching and redying his hair so many times, but he found the colour he was looking for – a deep vermillion that made him stand out in a crowd. That's all he ever wanted to do really – to stand out and be someone." 

"Why are you telling me all this Hisoka?" 

"He was innocent, Yomi, just another reckless young man who dared to dream big. And you know what? Someone then came along and took advantage of his courage to dream and turned it into one big nightmare. Someone robbed him of his conscience and broke his mind and bereaved him of his future. That someone is living in the same city as you; that someone freely walks the streets and could one day destroy your son if he could find a benefit from his downfall. _My cousin was innocent._" 

Yomi heard the tears well enough. He swallowed the uncomfortable lump lodged in his throat and bit his bottom lip until it bled. 

"I have a way of contacting Lady Valerie." 

They all looked at him. 

"But it's going to be futile. There is no hope you'll be able to negotiate to get your cousin back, Hisoka, because you have nothing they want. Lady Valerie doesn't know pity or compassion – she only knows bargains and contracts. What have you got to offer that she does not have from her husband or Vallanor?" 

"You've met her too?" 

"Answer the question – what will you give if you see her? An emotional speech? Your bleeding heart? She'll probably laugh and step on it. Don't do this to yourself Hisoka. Let Iori go – he's too far gone." 

"There's……one way." 

They all turned back to Karasu. He wished they wouldn't. 

"Lord Hades. We tell him everything and urge him to everything that's within his power. Better still – get him to sign a truce with Vallanor and settle his quarrel with Valerie and the storm will go away. Think you can do that Hisoka? Patch up a relationship you barely know anything about?" 

The magician rose to his feet with an aura of deadly calm about him as if he had achieved a breakthrough. 

"No use wallowing in despair. I'll try to get them to talk then. That will my consideration to Lady Valerie. Give me the contact details." 

The blind man nodded. "When you secure your end of the bargain, I'll try to contact her." 

"And you'll not tell us how you know her." 

"That is my business and no one else's. Push it and I'll withdraw my offer to help," he replied smoothly, to Hisoka and everyone in the room. 

Kuroro clapped his hands to regain everyone's attention. "So be it then. Hisoka you deal with Lord Hades whereas the rest of us will inform police and tell them all we know. Do _not_ spread this – we might prematurely alert them of our knowledge of their plans. Everything that has been said in this room today is confidential and will not leave the room. Agreed?" 

They all nodded and began to disperse, going their separate ways. Hisoka was held back by the Bluesummers siblings. 

"Leona's got something to tell you." 

The tall blue haired woman stepped forward with her head bowed so that her bangs covered her eyes. 

"I've seen your long haired friend with Iori in Northside as well." 

_"Illumi?!"_

* * *

**Author's Note:**   
I think I made this chapter more Hunter related again - at least Hisoka is firmly tied to the main problem/issue at hand, as is Illumi.   
Thank you once again for the detailed reviews - I value them over ten one liners. *bows low* thank you for taking time to read my work and appreciate the ideas that I put in. I hope this chapter will not disappoint.   
  
  



	22. Chapter 22: Danger Approaches

**Hunter Works******

**By: Yomi**

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**Disclaimer:** Hunter x Hunter is copyrighted by Yoshihiro Togashi, Shounen Jump Weekly, Shueisha and Nippon Animation   


* * *

**Chapter 22 – Danger approaches**

Hisoka disregarded Legato's pleadings and shrugged off Machi's clutching hands. Leona kept her eyes on the ground, trailing behind in the shadows of the group. She wondered if it had been such a wise idea to tell the red head the news, that the man who he shared the same roof with had contact of the unwholesome nature with Iori. 

Leona closed her eyes for a brief moment, allowing old memories to rake their dirty claws through her mind once more. She was back in the devastated warehouse that she had once called home, the dank smell of rotting wood pervading the air smacking into her nostrils. Weak light from a cracked light bulb swung around with eerie hypnotism as she walked down the silent hallway, the echoes of her footsteps unnaturally smothered. 

Her fingers trailed along the damp wood and her footsteps slowed, coming to an eventual halt at a door, opened by a fraction, allowing a sliver of light to shiver in the darkness. There were voices from within, almost drowned out by screams and sobs. She went down onto her hands and knees and peered through the crack. 

Images of naked women hanging in chains and wicked curved hooks from the ceiling first blocked her view. Some had been gutted down the center with loops of intestines hanging out, cold blood dripping onto the concrete floor. Others, still twitching, showed signs of life in their wide eyes overloaded by horror. Some of them opened their mouths to scream, showing their tongues had been cut out whilst death was beginning to congeal around the luckier few. The room stank of blood, meat and decay. 

The slightly hunched figure of Iori casually strolled through the room, amongst the hanging pieces of meat. There was a wolfish smirk on his face as he surveyed his torture specimens, giving particular sounds of approval at the sight of ones still struggling with the last of their strengths. Those ones gave him a thrill to a watch. There was a perverted ecstasy when it came to watching a woman in her last throes of life, the flame flickering before dying. He laughed again. 

"So Mr. Illumi, I'm surprised you came back." 

A man called Illumi kept two steps behind Iori as he followed Iori around the torture chamber today. She could hardly believe he was a man. His hair was long, lustrous, well kept. His fingers were long, dainty, too fine for a man. He had large feline black eyes, now narrowed, beneath eyebrows plucked by the best beautician. He stood out like an exotic black rose of great delicacy amidst rotting and wretched weeds. 

There were splatters of blood on his expensive clothes. He irritably looked at the stains and made an even greater effort to avoid the crimson pools of blood. Apart from the flicker of annoyance, his face was terribly cold, determined to reveal nothing. There was a subtle harshness in the way he gazed about him, but Iori was too extreme these days to appreciate subtleties and nuances. He failed to catch Illumi's disapproval for his surroundings. 

"Your hints and implications are louder than my brother's stereo setting," this Illumi said with a chill in his tone enough to give you severe frostbite. "I have the goods. Where is the exchange?" 

Iori gave him a narrowed, sideways look and pulled out a pair of orange, glowing tongs from the hot coals. His smirk widened at the curling smoke as the metal came into contact with the cool air, and he bought it to one of the still-moving women, pinching her nipple with the metal. 

Illumi's impassively looked on, neither flinching nor revealing disgust. His blank mask was perfect. He could have been crying and shrieking in fear at the sight of Iori throwing his head back, laughing away his madness as he mutilated the woman suspended from the ground by iron hooks digging into her ribs; or he could have gagged, or even thrown up, at the smell of burning meat. But he did nothing and almost seemed to patiently wait for the torture session to be over and the light die out in the woman's eyes. 

"The exchange, Mr Yagami," the raven haired man repeated once more. There was no change in his voice or hints of cracking around the edges. 

Iori continued to appear unfazed by the other man's coldness. He threw the tongs back in the coals to be reheated and took out a white pill bottle, one which could fit snugly in his fist. 

"So tell me, amuse me, what is a decent man like you doing with these drugs?" 

"Your place is not to ask questions." 

"Come on," Iori said, giving a faint laugh and he patted Illumi's shoulder, "don't be such a stiff. Wouldn't you like to know who supplies me with this drug?" 

Illumi steadily looked at him. "If you must know, Mr Yagami, I want to go through the exchange and get out of here. I feel my soul getting dirtier with every minute that I spend here." 

Iori feigned a hurt look. "I haven't even shown you the children's chambers yet. That place is magnificent – I've got spotlights, cameras and the right equipment set up in there. Children are so delicate. You've got to know how much pain they can take each time so they last a little longer and then you can play with them a bit more. You should hear their screams Mr. Illumi, especially the boys. They are the most beautiful." 

Iori missed the look of unholy rage murder that seized Illumi. For a moment, he appeared even more insane than Iori. Illumi's arms were rigidly held in place by his side by sheer determination which showed through the veins standing on his temples. His fists were so terribly clenched you could almost hear the bones breaking. Then it was gone, as sudden as someone turning off a tap. 

"Mr. Yagami, your mind is so far gone you don't even know where your ass ends and where your mouth begins. Have you never wondered why you're constantly being given all this information, free of charge, free of conditions and attachments?" 

"Who gives a fuck? I live only for the moment's pleasure, and if the information in that envelope of yours will give it to me, to hell with the consequences." 

The brief pity that flashed by in Illumi's eyes was replaced by malicious satisfaction. "If that is your free will, then so be it. Don't say you were never warned when you're up to your eyeballs in your own shit." 

Iori face contorted into an ugly snarl at Illumi's mocking tone, and he lunged like a rabid dog, with his clawed hands outstretched, to rend the man's pale flesh. The long haired one knew no fear. In fact, he slapped aside the hands with casual calm and his own lightening quick punch connected with a sharp crack on the right of Iori's jaw. Iori's bulky body crashed to the ground, already unconscious, and his head collided with the concrete. The naked violence in that small act caused her stomach to jump and her hands flew up to clamp over her mouth. Iori was a formidable fighter, especially when intoxicated by drugs. He knew no pain or fear and his strength was tripled. His fingers were like the iron hooks dangling the women in the air; he could easily rip and tear a man's limbs off in a frenzy. 

And Illumi decked him with one punch and thereafter delivered another sharp kick to his ribs before prying the small pill bottle out of Iori's hands. He carelessly dropped the envelope that he had bought behind him and showed himself out. 

"Lee! Pole! Please watch where you're going!" Legato's sharp reprimanded intruded into her thoughts. The memory, however, left her shuddering. 

"What's the matter with you, Lee?" 

"Mr. Hisoka, I…," she swallowed and tried again, "I really don't think this is a good idea." 

Hisoka flatly stared at her. "There are four of us and only one of him. You three Bluesummers hold him down and I'll go search his room." 

"No Mr. Hisoka, you don't understand. Illumi is not who you think he is. He's a terrible man to provoke. Maybe we could wait until he's out of the apartment first, avoid confrontation." 

"And snoop around like a thief?" Hisoka demanded in outrage. "Me, Hisoka, have to sink so low as to go as to sneak through someone's things? No, no and no." 

Legato pulled him back by the arm. "I think Leona's got a good point. You remember being strangled by him at Fantasia don't you? It took the combined efforts of five grown men to get him off you. I don't have Bashou or Ubo's muscles. Leona and Machi certainly can't help. You could be walking into a death trap." 

When Legato reminded Hisoka of Fantasia, the magician felt sweat dot his forehead and involuntarily, his hands once again went to massage the non-existent bruises on his throat. 

"Illumi's not at home most of the time, right? There'll be plenty of opportunities to go through his stuff." 

"His room is always locked," Hisoka finally replied after a long pause. His resignation did nothing damper the rage burning inside him however. "Tell me what I should do if I do find the drugs in his room. Is there any point in confronting him? What will making him confess achieve?" 

"The exchange, Hisoka. We want to know what kind of information he was supplying to Iori and who gave it to him. We want to know what Illumi got out of playing the courier." 

"I suspect he was sent by Salar." 

"I know, Lee," Legato yanked at her hair to stop her from looking at the ground all the time, "but what's in it for Illumi? Are you seriously trying to tell me that Illumi would risk his life into Northside over a few pills?" 

"Hey, Hisoka, does Illumi look like a drug addict to you?" 

The red head pondered on Machi's question. He saw Illumi taking drugs now and then, but it was never done in secrecy and he took it regularly. He had just presumed that Illumi was on some medication, or maybe he was taking some sort of anti-stress tablets. Of late, he had seen less and less of Illumi taking his pills and in the past two weeks, he had stopped all together. Hisoka presumed that he got well. 

"When was it you saw Illumi, Lee?" 

"About a month and a half ago, or maybe a month." 

Hisoka sighed. "Since you guys are already here, why don't you come up to have a drink? The Stool, and now this – it's all getting a bit too much. I think a tall, cold drink would be nice."   
  


Dougy Cameron was over at Illumi's apartment, fitting on another set of clothes when Hisoka barged in with the Bluesummers siblings in tow. Old experience and basic instinct told him that it was a bad omen. Since Machi was a girl, who was also working with Hisoka at Hunter Works, his paranoid mind told him that whatever Machi could have said to Hisoka, there would inevitably be something negative about his manager. 

Illumi's arms were wrapped around his waist, trying to adjust the buckle at the back so as to hold the coat firmly in place. Dougy grinned and turned his head slightly so that his lips brushed against Illumi's ear. 

Fire instantly erupted on Hisoka's head of red hair. He was taking great long strides towards them and Dougy topped it off with a giggle. 

"There, that should hold but I – " 

Illumi's eyes bulged as he was torn away from his model. Fortunately, he crashed onto the couch and missed the dangerous corners of the coffee table. After the initial impact of the shock faded and his vision back in focus, he leapt to his feat. 

"What's your damn problem!" 

Hisoka looked around at the room full of people and the unrepentant smug grin still on Dougy's face. "Private word with you?" 

He went to the stereo and blast the music on high setting, then ushered Illumi into his bedroom. 

Dougy turned the full devastating charm of his smile on to the siblings, masking the uncertainty he felt underneath, and evenly said, "Hi, how are you all doing?"   
  


The door slammed shut and Hisoka locked it. 

"This is sheer idiocy Hisoka! If you can't see, I'm working right now. What's so damn important?" 

"How could you do this to me? I _confessed_ my affections for you yesterday and here I find you _embracing_ another man!" 

"If I recall correctly, I don't think I ever returned your 'affections' and I was _not_ embracing another man. He's my _model_ and I have to make sure the clothes fit." 

"You….you…didn't have to do it like that!" 

"Stop it Hisoka, you're being childish and I don't have time for this." 

That said, Illumi turned to go. Hisoka hauled him onto the bed then threw himself on top of him, seizing the struggling arms and pinning them by his side. 

Struggling by twisting and writing was a bad idea. Certain parts of their body touched and created shocks of electricity that danced up his spine. Hisoka's wet lips possessively covering his own, his hot tongue pushing past his teeth into his mouth, didn't help either. 

Illumi's eyes rolled back as wave after wave of heat swept away his resistance and the lack of air made him dizzy. He doubled his efforts to get the man off but that just gave him all the wrong pleasures. 

Only unwillingly did Hisoka break the kiss, and he drank in Illumi's flushed cheeks and open, panting mouth with sweet contentment. "You returned my affections," he said softly. 

"I did not!" 

Hisoka applied only the slightest pressure to his hips and it was enough for a moan to hiccup in Illumi's throat. 

"You just did." 

"Get off me. There are still people outside. What point are you trying to make?" 

Hisoka's smile became playful. "Just wanted you to know you have feelings for me." 

"Yes, I feel like I want to wipe that smirk off your face with the coarsest sandpaper known to man and then stick a hundred knives into you." 

"Be nice," Hisoka murmured and slipped his hand under Illumi's shirt. He instantly thrashed. 

"Don't touch me like that! It makes me sick!" 

"Of course it doesn't. It makes you feel very good." 

It felt like Hisoka's hot hands were stroking every inch of his body. Illumi cursed the philanderer's long years of experience with this matter and gritted his teeth. His will would not be so easily crushed. 

Hisoka was toppled out of the bed by a surge of unnatural strength in Illumi and he landed with an impressive thump on the carpeted floor. Illumi instantly sat up and rearranged his messy hair and buttoned up his shirt that Hisoka only took two seconds to undo. 

He mercilessly kicked back Hisoka, who had tried to pounce on top of him once more. 

"If you were a cat, I'd have you neutered years ago," he tried to say calmly, but his uneven breathing wouldn't allow it and only made him sound unsure and insecure. "You have guests. Entertain them or send them away." 

Hisoka eyed him suggestively. "So we'll continue tonight?" 

"I sleep with a pair of scissors beside my bed. You're very welcome to try." 

Despite paling slightly, Hisoka managed the crooked smile and trailed out after Illumi. 

He had completely forgotten about everything that had just happened today.   
  
  


~*~*~*~*~ 

  
  


**Monday, 10:30 am, Central Park**

Although it wasn't official that the gazebo in the middle of Central Park belonged to Lady Persephone, no one in their right mind would occupy that gazebo on Monday mornings because it was Lady Persephone's morning tea area. 

There was always a retinue of friends or close relatives tightly packed around her at all times. She would never be caught anywhere by herself and her people hung around the fringes like vultures, looking for an opportunity to get on Lady Persephone's good side. 

Lord Hades was a rich and influential man you see. If he liked you, owning your own studio and directing your own anime wasn't such a fancy dream any more. 

Today, she bought her daughter and invited her cousin Filia and her most lovely son, Xelan. 

"Little Xe, come to Aunt Persey!" Lady Persephone scooped the child off the ground in one big whoosh of a hug, grunting slightly at Xelan's growing weight. "Big boy now aren't you. Big boy causing big trouble. Tell Aunt Persey all about it – what happened on the weekend? I think Elysian Shares almost fell by two percent because of the bad news in Anime City. Don't lie to me, I know you had a hand." 

Xelan's eyes darted from side to side and he gave small pout. "It was all Valgarv's fault. He was bullying Kay." 

"Bad man! And so what did you do?" 

"Shura kicked him in the shins!" 

Lady Persephone dramatically gasped and deteriorated into a series of giggles with Xelan. 

"Then Kay and I ran to Shura's house and hid in his room. He lent us some clothes to wear. They didn't find us for hours." 

Lady Persephone looked disappointed. "That's it? No revenge for the bullying?" 

Xelan leaned forward and pressed his cheek to her cheek so he could whisper delicately into her ear, "We're going to destroy Valgarv and reduce him into dust and less than dust!" 

Lady Persephone drew Xelan back with a look of malevolent cruelty sparkling in her sky blue eyes. Xelan seriously gazed at her, though with an impish, devilish smile on his angelic face, and she hugged and kissed the child.   
  


Filia was always one to socialize with the right people, and she was glad that Xelan had some part in him that was similar to her. He could make Lady Persephone the happiest aunt in the world. 

The Ul Copt family was large and there was always some distant aunt or uncle in a convenient position of power whenever you needed help. Persephone captured the heart of the most powerful and richest man in Anime City and Filia was proud to say that she had Ul Copt blood in her, however thin it was. 

It didn't prevent Persephone from adoring Xelan. She loved to sit and stroke his smooth cheeks, coo in delight over his dimples, rub his pink lips with her finger tips whenever he betrayed his intelligence by saying something that sounded wrong coming out of the mouth of an eleven year old. She also took pleasure in running her hands through his glossy purple hair. 

_Xelloss'_ purple hair – no Ul Copt blood in him. That connection made Filia frown – Xelan's lustrous mane was a beacon brighter than any lighthouse light, reminding her again and again that Xelan had Metallium blood in him as well. 

But thankfully Lady Persephone did not seem to mind and she hugged and kissed Xelan all the same. He must have said something amusing. 

"You know what this means Integral," she said, nudging the inattentive blonde haired woman standing like a soldier at attention beside her. 

Integral rolled her eyes and dutifully nodded, lifting the corners of her lips into something resembling a half hearted smile. Filia was always hanging around her mother putting on those exaggerated exclamations all the time at almost anything that her mother said. If her mother told her to hop and bark like a mad dog, Filia would probably think it was the most wonderful idea ever to have graced the earth and would personally make sure the entire neighbourhood heard her mad barking. 

They were courtiers – suck ups and false people. Anime city, Integral found, was littered with them and you never had to look far to spot one. Their eyes usually gave them away, always shifting, darting from side to side constantly, unable to hold a firm gaze. Their all encompassing nature made them even more suspect and after some time, when it became apparent that they agreed with every opinion you made, no matter how ridiculous, you realized that a slimy leech had latched onto your skin, sucking onto you with its tens of razor sharp teeth. 

And what to make of the purple haired menace charming the peals of laughter out of her mum? Well, Integral was undecided on this point. Xelan made her mum happy at least, and although he was known to be smart, quietly rebellious and shared intimate company with Prince Kaéry – bane of all parents, there was a subtle appeal about the boy. It could be his pensive nature, his mother's cerulean eyes and trusting gaze or the pretty pout that made his presence tolerable, and if he felt like it, enjoyable. 

"So my dear niece, what do you think of your co-actor Alucard? Any possibility between you two? Look how happy your mum is with my precious Xe. I think she's ready to be a grandma soon, don't you?" 

Mentioning the no good, womanizing, two timing Alucard in the same sentence as her and further in a question of a suggestive nature made her inwardly cringe. Cold sweat dampened the back of her red silk shirt, the same silk shirt that _he_ had picked and bought for her. 

"I am interested in someone else, Aunt Filia," she replied primly then immediately wished she hadn't said it aloud for her aunt stirred beside her and the hairs on the back of Integral's neck shivered. 

"Ah, my dear niece has been looking around Anime City! How delightful. So tell Aunty Filia, who is this special man?" 

Seeing as her mother was still engrossed by the purple haired child, there was no way she could help her out of this shallow grave. Doing her best to maintain as much pride and dignity as she could, she calmly replied, "His name's Salar." 

A gasp she did not expect. Was there something wrong with the announcement? 

Filia looked at her as if she was delirious from a high fever. "You mean…Karasu's older twin?" 

"Yes. A handsome, charming and polite man. I'm sure father would approve of him." 

"_And_ heartless, calculating, emotionless, no-good man!" 

Persephone looked up, disturbed by the racket. "Is something wrong cousin Filia?" 

Filia paled and was suddenly at a loss, groping for words which eluded her and left her looking like a fish on dry land, gasping for air. Integral hurriedly reassured her mother that all was fine before her aunt had the chance to pull herself together and dramatically blurt out her crush. 

"It's nothing mother. Aunt Filia was just saying how much she wanted to go and take a walk around the fountain." 

Persephone blinked. "You mean _that_ fountain. Oh yes, nice piece of work that is. Well, you go ahead, but remember to be back by lunch otherwise little Xe here will get hungry, won't you my precious nephew?" 

"Yes mother," Integral faintly echoed and gave a small curtsey before tugging on Filia's arm and dragging her away from the Gazebo. 

Once they were safely clear of hearing range, obscured from view of the Gazebo by the thickening clusters of trees, Integral spun around on her heels and loomed over her aunt so that Filia saw dark shadows pass across her tanned face. 

"Did you have to say that so loudly just then?" 

Filia bought her trembling hand to cover her astonished and gaping mouth and she tried her best to appear apologetic. It seemed that Integral had inherited a fair amount of her father's rare, but terrible anger. Sir Integral Hellsing now stood before her in her icy aura and fear rooted Filia to the spot even though she urged her body to back away. 

Through chattering teeth, she said, "I'm sorry darling, I didn't mean to blurt it out like that. Please, forgive me, but _Salar_! Have you gone truly insane?" 

Integral's head whipped around, trying to spot lurking reporters or any other person with a set of ears and a loud mouth within vicinity. They were still in the more popular, sunnier areas of the garden and there were people aplenty. It was no place to talk about private crushes and open libel, so Integral clamped her fingers around Filia's wrist and dragged her to the quieter, remote corners of Central Park. 

Filia was pulled in the general direction of the fountain – a large, three tiered monument that graced one of the more secluded areas of the park. The bottom tier was supported by merman who propped up most of the structure with their aching shoulders. The second tier was held up by water nymphs, and at the top sat Poseidon with his Trident, glaring at his surroundings with a stern face. Because the trees around the fountain had grown such that the canopy blocked off most of the sunlight, people hardly ventured there, and the gardeners neglected to the repave the gravel paths leading to the fountain. When the track became faint and the path uneven, even fewer people ventured into the darker part of the park and consequently the fountain fell into disuse. 

It was the perfect place to talk without the treacherous ears of slimy rats. 

Although the sun was near the zenith of its brilliance and the day considerably warming up, each step towards the fountain bought a gust of cool wind which made Filia shiver. The light had dimmed and it was as if they had stepped into an abandoned forest overgrown with wild weeds and prickly thorn bushes after dusk with only a rare sliver of silver sunlight able to pierce through the disturbing illusion every now and then. Few birds chirped and the cicadas maintained a steady hum. The hypnotic splashing of water from the fountain could be heard in the distance. 

Integral finally stopped and let go of Filia. She crossed her arms and warily studied the unfamiliar surroundings and breathed in the damp smell of earth and decay. 

"What's wrong with the man Aunt Filia? The last I saw him, he was ever so gracious and charming. He's reasonable, well mannered, chivalrous and understands me very well." 

Filia placed her firmest grasp on her niece's shoulder and wished she could convey her seriousness by the dark look of despair on her face alone. It certainly made Integral notice her. She cleared her throat. 

"My dear, Salar has about as much empathy as a rock, and I've met rocks even more humane in comparison. I hear from my husband that Salar is a genius and that he used to be harmless before he disappeared about a year ago. But he's caught up with all the wrong people now and he's using his intelligence for bad things. My dear, you're being tricked, deceived!" 

Integral roughly jerked herself away, lips twisted in a snarl. "I can't believe you would slander a man behind his back!" 

"Integral! Listen to me!" Filia used her sternest voice which could on most occasions get Xelan to comply with her wishes. "You cannot possibly ever hope to know the real Salar unless he chooses to show you. And if he ever does, I advise you to run, run away as far as you can." 

"What has he done to you Aunt Filia, to make you say such horrid things about another person?" 

"He's got the biggest bounty in Northside for a start. Then he's…," Filia made some wild gestures in the air, tracing circular patterns, "I don't know how to explain it. People used to feel awkward in his presence because we had nothing to say which would interest him. But that was ok – things were just awkward and uncomfortable. Now…there is no life in his eyes, only a cunning darkness that seeks to devour your soul." 

"I don't believe you," Integral said flatly. 

"I only saw him yesterday at Mistress' place. Shura had taken the nasty Kaéry and my darling Xe to his place after some very impolite words with Valgarv. Then _he_ came when we were wondering how to split Kaéry and Xe up so by baby can accept Valgarv and his new life. _He_ came and we all felt like we were trapped in a room with a tiger who hadn't eaten for an entire week." 

Integral thrust out her chin haughtily. "That's probably because your impressions were tainted by bias." 

"No, my niece, I hardly know the man yet he terrifies me like no one has ever terrified me. There's no warmth in him, no comfort in his icy eyes. He's cold and harsh and his own twin brother would say the same. Integral, he's an actor – just like the rest of us." 

"Say I believe you, but why? Why would Salar try to deceive me into thinking he's a nice guy? There are plenty of other pretty girls – " 

The leathery sound of rotting leaves being crushed reached their ears. Filia instantly hushed her niece, pulling her down onto her hands and knees then peered through the cracks between the trees. She strained her eyes in the weak light only to make out the shape of a child, around six to seven, dressed in a pink satin dress, scampering through the thickets and nimbly jumping over the exposed roots of the Morton Bay Fig trees. 

"What bad luck. That's Mrs. Robinson's daughter Jesabell. Shh, keep quiet Integral. We don't want her to see us otherwise she'll pester us to no end." 

"But what's a lone child doing in this part of the Park?" 

"Seeking attention," Filia said tightly, her lips pressed into the most disappointing line. "I'd have her smothered as a baby if I knew she would turn to be like this. That child's a monster – was born to be an actor too. Knows all the tricks to get attention from adults." 

"Worse than the Prince of Brats?" 

"Oh no, of course not. The Prince of Brats can ruin your business, destroy your name and kick you out of town if he felt like it. Jesabell only specializes in pissing adults off to get attention. Just an annoying brat but totally harmless. Still, we don't want her to be following us for the rest of the day. Come on, let's get out of here." 

Integral stood straight and dusted the dirt off her skirt and straightened her blouse. "Aunt Filia, she's going to get lost. There's no clear path for her to follow to make it back." 

Filia waved her hand and curtly dismissed the idea. "Mrs. Robinson has a beagle specially trained to pick up her daughter's scent. If the police do announce she's missing tomorrow, we'll just tell Mrs. Robinson we saw Jesabell around here and let the dog do what he' been bred to do." 

But Integral refused to budge. "You still haven't told me why Salar should lie to me." 

"Shh! Not so loud! Ok, if you want to talk, keep your voice down." 

Filia squinted through the semi-darkness to where she last saw Jesabell and released a sigh of relief. "Coast clear. Don't want a pesky child like that over hearing us now. Now Integral, I know you father doesn't like you getting involved in his business and politics – " 

"Doesn't let me get involved," Integral interrupted, muttering. 

" – so you might not know what's been happening around Anime City for the past month. Even I'm a bit unsure myself but my associates have been affected. Have you by any chance heard of Vallanor?" 

  


~*~*~*~*~*~ 

  


Jesabell Robinson was six this year and could always extort an adult to pick her up a buy her a lollipop if she put her mind to it. That was her sole and only talent and it made her voice sweetly, and sickly poisonous to an adult ear. 

Today, she was going to cause the biggest commotion Anime City had ever seen yet. She was going to hide in the quietest part of the park and wait until the whole city kicked up a fuss over her disappearance and had to get the police to find her. Then everyone would be looking at her, and all the adults would all be fighting to hold her in their arms whilst lights from the camera flashed around her. And so she broke away from her classmates on their school field trip today and ran straight to the fountain when everyone was too busy feeding the fat ducks. No one goes to the fountain. It was going to be the perfect hiding spot. 

Through the darkening woods and looming trees, along the abandoned path, shrugging her way between the narrow gaps of prickly thorn bushes, Jesabell finally saw the fountain, over six meters high. In the wane sunlight that struggled through the choking canopy, the stone pulsed like a heart an eerie iridescent grey. 

On the bench just meters from the fountain was a solitary figure with a sketchbook on her thighs. Her pale face looked sickly and eyes were like two chips of sapphires set in sculpted marble. Although the lady was pretty, she had a statue's stillness and half its life. Those lazy half open eyes would look upon the world's suffering with calm indifference and the grim line of her red blood lips could lift in mild amusement as screams of pain stung her ears. There was no kindness about her. 

All the greater challenge. Nothing was more exhilarating than breaking the ice of the coldest and most unresponsive adult. Jesabell fixed her brown curls back into their rightful place and did her best to wipe the dirt away from he pudgy face. 

"Excuse me lady, but I'm lost," she said, putting on her meekest and most adorable look. She battered the long eyelashes that nature had bestowed upon her and pouted, knowing it made her irresistible. 

Did she not say it loud enough? The whispering of the fine lead tip scratching the paper haunted her ears and Jesabell wondered if she should repeat her question again. 

And so she did, but the lady still gave no sign that she heard. Perhaps she was deaf? 

Deciding to test her theory, Jesabell slowly walked in full view of the lady and cautiously waved to get her attention. 

"Excuse me, you're blocking my view," the black haired lady finally said, looking up her with eyes less human than her china doll at home above the fireplace, and said in a voice which made her gulp. But Jesabell would not let the unfriendliness deter her. She skipped the remaining two steps to close the gap and stretched out her hands to be lifted. 

The lady flipped to the next page of her sketchbook and started a new picture. Being so superbly ignored was not something Jesabell Robinson, Queen of Attention, was used to. She resisted the urge to stomp her feet but her devious mind was beginning to brew a dozen ways to make the lady love her. 

Ignoring the snub, she adopted the shy look and hooked her fingers together behind her back. "My name is Jesabell Robinson. Don't you think it's a nice name? My mother thinks it's a nice name. She says I'm good and obedient like an angel. Do you think I am?" 

"Good obedient little girls go away when told to do so. I have no patience or love to spare for the snivelling likes of you." 

Snivelling? Did she just say 'snivelling'? Jesabell thought, biting her lips in fury over the grievous insult and told her foot not to kick up all the dirty, wet leaves. She's just testing my tolerance, she tried to reason with herself, and if I show that I can tolerate whatever meaness she throws at me, she'll give up and accept me! 

So with the smile of sugar on her face once more, she helped herself onto the seat beside the lady and leaned towards her. The uncontrollable shivering she consequently suffered made her regret it though. But determined as she was, Jesabell gritted her teeth and maintained her honey sweet looks. 

"What picture are you drawing? Would you like to draw me? I can sit very still." 

Why was the lady so damn quiet? Why won't she look at me? Jesabell began to seethe with rising frustration. Daring to shuffle an inch closer, she craned her neck to get a peek of the new drawing. The lady's arm was in the way and so she gave up and slid off the bench. 

"How would you like me to stand," she said, putting on a variety of poses, "like this, like this or with my hands on my hips like this?" 

"In a coffin, six feet under the ground perhaps?" 

A reaction was better than none. So she stood onto her tiptoes and did her best twirl. She liked the way her dress swivelled around her and when accompanied with her brightest beam, no adult could resist her. She didn't like the black clothes that the lady was wearing. Black only made her pale skin look sickly grey. Black was for people with strange moods. Black was usually worn by unfriendly people. Unless they were men. Men's suits were usually black. 

The lady's deep blue eyes lifted, to look at her and herald the awakening of some nameless terror lurking within each human's soul. She lifted the sketchbook off her lap and flipped it over for her to take a look. The boundless cruelty in the lady's smile turned Jesabell's blood to ice. As did the sketch. 

The picture was made from a hundred shades of grey created by the varying degrees of pressure applied to the pencil on paper. It was the ghastly portrait of a small rotting corpse animated but a gloating, smirking puppet master. And that small carcass controlled by the strings showed bits of bone and a grisly death's head grin. It was distinctly wearing her pink satin dress with the lace trim on the hem.   
  


Jesabell shrill scream was piercing enough to penetrate the suffocating darkness and alert two other blonde women speaking in hushed tones. 

"Aunt Filia!" 

"Shh!" 

The scream came again, and this time it struck a spear of ice in their hearts. 

"Come on, Mrs. Robinson's daughter's in trouble!" 

"No Integral, let's get out of here. We don't want to get caught up." 

"I can't believe I just heard you say something as heartless and despicable as that!" Integral exclaimed in shock, her face twisted in horror. She stalked through the carpet of moss and rotting leaves, making directly for the source of the scream. Filia bit her lip and stomped off after the crimson outline of her rash niece. 

Integral's sharp eyes caught bits of pink satin and raced to the spot. To hell with the humiliation if this was all just a stunt by one brat kid. Rather safe than sorry. 

"Hurry! I can see her." 

"Yeah," Filia panted, slumping against a tree trunk to catch her breath, "I'm right behind you. Right behind you…You go ahead without me, I'll catch up…"   
  


Integral found Mrs. Robinson's daughter in the lap of a dark, brooding Morton Bay Fig a few paces from the fountain. Her face was glistening with tears. Just behind the fountain, on a grey stone bench with lashes of vine clinging to the seat, was a woman sitting, impervious to Jesabell's third scream. 

"Oh my, what's wrong?" 

Jesabell looked up and saw another lady, with tan skin and blonde hair. Concern and kindness filled her misty blue eyes, and Jesabell felt the ice in her heart start to thaw. Until then, she hadn't realized just how cold she was, that her lips were dark and bluish, and that she was shivering at sporadic intervals. Genuine hot tears welled up in her eyes. 

"My foot's stuck." 

Integral inspected the situation for herself. Indeed, her foot had been viciously wedged between two thick roots of the tree, showing only wisps of white lace from her sock. The gap between the roots was narrower than the width of Jesabell's foot. How she even got it stuck in the first place staggered belief and defied physics. 

She firmly bent down and grasped the foot, as close to the tree root as possible, and put all her strength behind the tug. 

It wouldn't budge. At all. More frightening still, blood flow to the trapped foot was rapidly declining. The skin was looking frosty white. 

"How are you feeling? Are you in a lot of pain?" 

Jesabell let out a trembling breath and horasely spoke through torrents of tears still pouring down her face. "I can't feel it. Can't feel my foot." 

Integral tried to twist the foot around, but the appendage had already swollen to such a state that it would not even budge. She tried to pry apart the tree roots. Even if she could only manage a fraction of a centimeter, at least it would relieve the blood flow. But a tree, having weathered a good century of the worst storms and summers, could not be moved so easily. 

"Aunt Filia! HELP!" 

Her aunt trundled through and stumbled to a halt, half the life drained from her already. She was in an even more disheveled state than the child. 

"Foot stuck? What's the big deal? Just yank it out." 

"Would you bother yourself and actually look?! It's fricking stuck. I don't even know she managed to get jammed it in there in the first place. You _can't_ get stuck in this – but it _is_ and nothing is giving way!" 

"I'll yank and you try to push apart those roots. Use your feet or something as leverage. Ready?" 

The women exhausted themselves for the next five minutes. Their efforts were like water breaking against rock, completely going to waste. Even when the two women combined their strength to pry the exposed tree roots apart, it was futile. 

They fell onto their backsides, amongst the undergrowth and damp earth, wondering what little else they could do. Suddenly, Filia gave a squeal. 

"My Gods! I didn't see you there!" she addressed the voiceless woman sketching away on a big A3 pad. "Can you come lend us a hand?" 

A long silence passed and the sound of water falling into the pools of water in the lowest tier of the fountain continued to tinkle with sweet musicality. 

"Excuse me, I'm talking to you." 

The seated woman lifted her lifeless eyes and regarded them all with as much compassion as one would have for a greedy, obese corporate fat cat with grease trickling down his shirt. 

"Could you all please be quiet? I'm trying to have some peace here." 

Integral couldn't believe such people existed. She snarled and snapped at her aunt. "Don't argue with her. Get me the largest stick you can find. I'll be damned if I can't get that stupid foot out." 

Jesabell was oddly quiet. The sweat drenched on her brow plastered her brown locks to the sides of her pallid white face. Her lips were dry, her tongue was lolling out and her breathing was shallow. Corpses had been known to look healthier than her. 

"I want my momee," she whispered. 

"Be strong. It'll all be ok. I'll call your mother." 

Her phone was not with her. Integral remembered that her phone was in her black Prada bag, and her bag was still by her mother's bag in the gazebo. 

"I can't feel my foot," Jesabell continued to whimper, "will they chop it off?" 

"Chop it off?" 

A feverish light sparkled in Jesabell's dull eyes. "No! I don't want them to chop my foot off! I don't want them to chop my foot of! Please, lady, please help." 

"Hush, they won't do that to you." 

Integral thought it was her aunt returning with her stick, but it turned out to be her mother and little Xelan skipping by her side, throwing back one winning smile after another. 

"Integral honey! You've been gone with Filia for almost an hour. Don't you realize it's lunch time?" 

"Mother," Integral exclaimed, jumping to her feet and dusting her satin black skirt. "Mrs. Robinson's daughter has her foot caught. I've done all I can but I can't help." 

"Well, call the firemen then." 

"My phone…" 

"Careless girl," her mother scolded and reached into her own handbag. 

Xelan wandered up to the helpless child and mildly studied the situation. "Looks bad." 

"Don't say that Xe!" 

He shrugged. "If you don't get that foot out soon, the lack of oxygen to the foot could leave it dead. By the time they get it out, it'll be useless and they'll have to amputate it." 

"Am-pu-tate?" 

"To chop off," he explained, in a simple and efficient manner to the young girl, and studied the tree some more. 

"You'd have to get an axe," he continued in that off handed, clinical tone, "and you need to cut here and here to get the foot out. I saw mother looking for sticks – you'd have to have a log six inches in diameter to budge that root, but you can't even fit six inches in there." He turned to Jesabell. "How on earth did you even get it in in the first place? You'd have to…force it in yourself or something?" 

"I was running….and I slipped." 

Lady Persephone dropped her phone halfway through dialing the number. The cellphone clattered on the ground as she backed away. Fear had stolen her voice and panic made her heart beat painfully fast. 

"Integral. Come to mother. Now." 

"What's the matter? You look like as if you've seen a – " 

"Ghost?" the woman on the bench said, chuckling. She closed the cover of her sketchpad and dropped the pencils into her bag. Her bloody red smile contained all the world's cruelty and malice and her eyes twinkled with venom. 

"Integral, come to mother _NOW,_" Persephone panted between shallow breaths. 

"Don't be so frightened now, Lady Persephone. It's not like you and I have an irreparable enmity." 

"_Integral!"_

Puzzled by her mother's reactions, but not wanting to defy her, Integral reluctantly left Jesabell's side and returned to her mother's. Persephone immediately gripped her hand and jerked it so that Integral stumbled back into her mother's shadow. 

"Valerie. I didn't know you were in Anime City." 

"You didn't know I was alive," Valerie patiently corrected with her uncharacteristic harsh, low voice a woman with her physique would not normally have, "but as you see, I am healthy and doing very well. My Lord's servants are in the City, and I thought I'd come earlier to take a look around. This place has changed quite a bit since I was last here." 

"What do you want?" 

"What do I want? More like the question is what do _you_ want. I'm here trying to enjoy some peace and quiet from the bustling city, and yet it seems everyone is determined to ruin my mood." 

"_What do you want!"_

Valerie pretended to be deep in thought. "I was thinking of maybe asking my Lord to buy me this park. Then I could come and visit whenever I please without every brat in this city kicking up the gardens. I can sit in the gazebo and watch the seasons roll by. Or I can be by the fountain and enjoy the quiet solitude. That's not too threatening, is it?" 

"You stay away from us," Persephone hysterically said, still backing away with each word. "I'll get a restraining order against you even if I have to! I have friends in high places!" 

Valerie's laugh made Integral cringe in sickness. Who was this woman that her mother so feared? 

"Let me reassure you that my Lord had friends in even higher places." 

Valerie slowly rose to her feet and checked her goods. From behind the stone bench, she picked up an object, six feet long, shrouded in black cloth. Unravelling the cloth revealed a sword whose scabbard was encrusted with precious gems. She strapped the weapon onto her sword belt and picked up the rest of her belongings. 

"Cousin Integral, that lady can probably cut the roots with her sword," Xelan quietly pointed out. 

Valerie was now talking on her phone. "Misha – get me a car. I'll be at the North Entrance of Central Park in ten minutes." 

As she walked by, imperiously ignoring mother and daughter, Integral seized on the chance and called her name. 

"Please, help the child." 

Valerie was a clear half a head taller than her, allowing her to look down on her with generous amounts of ridicule. She did stop, swung around to see Jesabell curled up into a ball, near unconsciousness amidst the jutting, gnarled tree roots. 

"How?" 

Integral fought to block the surging tides of hysteria threatening to burst her heart. "You could use your sword to cut the roots so we can free the foot." 

"You want me to unsheathe my holy blade to perform such a mundane, demeaning, task?" she sneered, giving each of them incredulous looks. 

It was Integral's turn to look incredulous. "What? You're not going to help?" 

There was a pause. Valerie gave Jesabell's crumpled form one last glance; it was a bored glance that belied an incredible apathy and reluctance to even lift a finger to aid the young girl. Valerie then stiffened, straightened her back even more and clasped her hand over the pommel on her sword. A monstrous and unforgiving lifelessness gripped her throat, and her voice was harsher still. 

"Some things you can only learn through pain. Let this be a lesson to her." 

"But – " 

It was too late. The tall, brooding figure of Valerie was already beginning to diminish and out of hearing range. 

But Persephone indignantly blocked Integral's attempt to chase her, and she slapped her good across the face. 

"Did I give you permission to speak with that woman!" Persephone hissed, face red with anger. "Did I not say that you had to stay by my side!" 

"Mother!" Integral exclaimed, caressing her hurt cheek with a pained and confused look. 

"Don't talk back to me. Young lady, you are to never speak to her, do you hear me?" 

"You're being paraonid, mother – " 

"Promise me!" 

"Okay, okay. Calm down!" 

Persephone stared at her long and hard and was finally convinced. 

Filia returned, a miserable bent stick in her hand, rotten at the core. Persephone stonily stared off into the distance as they waited for help to arrive, unwilling to speak and unresponsive to their attempts to engage in conversation. Xelan quietly poked around Jesabell's predicament, but lacking physical strength, he could carry none of his ideas to help her. He wasn't trying as hard as his mother would have hoped. In truth, his attention was completely stolen by the exit of the stranger, who did not bat an eyelash at the suffering of a human being and could so callously walk away in the wake of dastardly cruel words. 

The firemen were late, much to Mrs. Robinson's frustration. Truth be told, they did not perceive the gravity of the call at first and were quite content to delay their response. After all, Mrs. Robinson's daughter was infamous for her troublesome antics, and they thought this was just another one of her pranks. Everyone despised a brat, and Jesabell was a very big brat. 

In the end, because blood flow to her left foot had stopped for a full hour, doctors had to amputate it. In the surgical theatre, under the insensitive spotlights and masked surgeons, Jesabell Robinson was crippled for life.   
  
  
  


Integral and Xelan followed their parents back towards the gazebo, their minds occupied by their various troubling and dark thoughts. 

"Cancel lunch Filia," Persephone snapped, still disinclined to look at them, "I have to find Hades. Today has been a bad day. You tell your Xelan not to speak to the woman called 'Valerie' ever again, do you hear me? Xe, listen to your Aunt Persey. If you ever see her again, run, as far away as you can." 

The cousins reserved caution and did not fully heed Lady Persephone's words. They had their own questions to be answered and they had their own methods of finding the answers. Running was definitely off the agenda for now. 


	23. Chapter 23: He's giving himself away

**Hunter Works **  
**By: Yomi**  
  
**CHAPTER 23**

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**Disclaimer:** Hunter x Hunter is copyrighted by Yoshihiro Togashi, Shounen Jump Weekly, Shueisha and Nippon Animation

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**  
Chapter 23 - He's giving himself away**  
  


Wednesday, Lobby, Hunter Works

Killua was still rubbing his naked arms that were pimpled with goosebumps, wishing that he had bought a long sleeved top despite the sunny weather, after having filmed Illumi's first real scene in Hunter x Hunter. Beside him, Hanzo reached down and ran his hand through his white hair, an affectionate gesture, but unwelcome nonetheless.

The goosebumps wouldn't go away no matter how much heat he was able to generate with the friction. He gritted his teeth and successfully warded off a shiver.

"Was it really that bad?" Hanzo leaned down and asked, his whisper causing Killua's heckles to rise. The child's expression paled and he quailed on the spot.

"What do you think?" he wanted to growl, but his voice was mute, stolen away by his wretched cowardice. The lump lodged in his throat did not help either. "How did it look from your point of view?" he managed to inquire politely.

Hanzo stroked his chin, and his eyes, twinkling with mischief, rolled up in thought. He gave a small hum as accompaniment and bit his lip when he arrived at an unfavourable answer. "I don't really know if it's wise to talk about it here."

"Everyone's still too damn busy getting changed for lunch. Do tell. I want to know what other people thought."

"You really want to know?"

"Yes!" In part, Killua's frustration was spurred on by what he perceived as a teasing answer to a perfectly technical and professional question about Illumi's acting standards. The fact that Hanzo shrouded himself in secrecy and conspiracy over an inquiry so innocent made Killua want to pinch Hanzo's cheeks. Hard.

"Promise you won't tell anyone who could endanger my career and or future prospects?"

"Promise!" Killua expelled in exasperation and was already on his tiptoes to capture a sizeable amount of fleshy cheek between his thumb and forefinger but Hanzo was quicker and grabbed him by the upper arm, painfully near the armpit, and dragged him towards the exit. The ninja did not dare to speak until they had passed beyond the rotating glass doors and were out in the open and the sun. Surveying his surroundings once more with eyeballs that were on the verge of popping out of their sockets, Hanzo had to deem that those who were innocently strolling by were indeed innocent before he would continue.

"He didn't look like he was acting."

Killua blinked. "Come again?"

The bald ninja wiped cold perspiration from his forehead and bent down lower as if he feared he could be overheard by invisible specters.

"He really looked like he was going to kill you back there. I swear it. Couldn't you hear the deadness in his voice or see the lackluster in his eyes?"

"That's what we call 'really good acting'," Killua said, rolling his eyes. "Maybe big bro is a better actor than we thought."

"Yes," Hanzo said gravely, "perhaps he's a better actor than we all thought indeed."

The insinuations ticked Killua off and he creased his forehead the way his dad would when the actors were restless and treated their instructions with careless indifference. The shooting had been successfully quick today, but Killua did not experience the usual elation of finishing a session early, where there was time enough to spare and throw a football in the park before lunch. His scene today, the confrontation with Illumi in the last trials of the Hunter Exam, unsettled him more than he'd like to admit and his co-actors implications did nothing other than to confirm his insecurities. And he feared that others could see the fear on his face.

Earlier that morning, he had noticed that Menchi was literally drooling before the sessions began. Killua knew what was on her mind and wouldn't mind betting his week's pocket money that everyone also caught onto Menchi's wavelength. She doubtlessly thought she was to be presented with Illumi's greatest humiliation ever, as he was entrusted with a long, intense scene, a dramatic monologue, when he had not an ounce of acting experience. She almost had the confetti out to celebrate his failure. And let's not forget her daily strutting in her tartish, revealing number, notably so in front of Hisoka.

But as most of the Genei Ryodan, who were sitting in the shadows of the studio and intently watching, noticed, Illumi performed his scene with the faultlessness of a blade straight from the fires of the forge. Kikyou could have trained him with his lines, but knowing Illumi's solitary preferences, it was more likely that he had abnormal powers of observation and learnt a lot in the two months where he watched them all act, or he was an undiscovered talent, a diamond in the rough.

People like Menchi and Neon were disappointed with the display, of course, even if they were not the ones personally shamed in any way other than having their expectations dashed, but Killua thought Hanzo of all people would not indulge in their types of gossips. He thought the ninja stood on Kuroro's side and exerted their efforts to sway everyone's opinion from animosity to neutrality when it came to the Zoldick big brother.

"Now what are you implying?"

Hanzo absorbed Killua's dangerous tone without taking offence. "It makes me wonder, if he's such a good actor and all, whether he may be acting around us or not. It's been two, three months now, Killua, and he could have been manipulating us like puppets. God knows Hisoka fell for it in the first days before he came to his senses, maybe he's been jerking with us too."

"You're jumping the gun there," Killua said quietly.

Impervious to the silent warnings, Hanzo was determined to say what he needed to say. "You think? Maybe I'm a little too excited by conspiracy theories, but it wouldn't do you harm to keep your eyes peeled open a bit more."

"He's going to be my real step-brother soon. I'm not going to suspect anyone," Killua replied and crossed his arms, just like his father would, indicating that the subject of discussion was at an end. Hanzo sighed, in that patronizing manner which served to irk you more than it helped to let the subject go.

"Well what do you want me to do about it?" Killua snapped.

"I've been hearing some strange things," Hanzo murmured, raising his eyebrows meaningfully.

"Gossip? You want me to trust gossip now? Gossip over a family member?"

Hanzo looked sideways again, and glared profusely at a couple pushing a pram past on the street and wouldn't relent until they were clearly out of earshot. "Is it still gossip if it comes from one of the members of Hunter Works?"

"Who's been talking? I wouldn't trust Menchi's words as far as I could chuck a pregnant cow. Goodness Hanzo, you're supposed to be an intelligent man!"

This time, Hanzo checked the rotating glass doors to make sure no one else had left the building yet. "Machi."

"Oh? And what did she have to say?"

"Do you know who Machi's sister is?"

Killua launched a swift kick at Hanzo's shins, but the latter, with his lightening quick reflexes, jumped back and evaded the blow. There was a stunned expression plastered on his face.

"You talk in circles, enigmas and riddles one more time, and I will _bite_ you," Killua said, then bared his fangs to let Hanzo know just how sharp and deadly his incisors were, and the type of wound they were capable of inflicting. The older man gulped and held his arms rigidly by his side as he broke into a recitation of all the facts he knew.

"I heard Machi talking outside the ladies change rooms at Toguro's Gym last night. She said that her sister had left Northside and has decided to be a good girl again. The name of Leona Bluesummers might mean nothing to you, but she was the girlfriend of Hisoka's cousin, Iori Yagami."

Killua was impatiently tapping his foot on the ground with a flat, expectant look in his narrowed eyes. "I'm waiting for the bit where 'Illumi' becomes relevant."

"I'm getting to that. Would it make you jump out of your skin if you heard Leona say that she saw Illumi in Northside?"

That certainly captured Killua's full attention. "Big bro, in Northside? You're kidding. Why?"

"The 'why' is a good question indeed. But what if you also knew that Iori Yagami has become a degenerate, insane and vile creature in the form of man? I hear they say that Iori has acquired some pretty vile habits and interests."

Killua clicked his fingers at the revelation. "You mean I should be asking why big bro is even meeting up with these horrible kinds of people!"

"Not so loud!" Hanzo gasped, bending down as if he would go unnoticed that way, and his eyes were darting around like pinballs in a frenzied game of pinball again. "Keep your voice down! This involves Hisoka's baby cousin. I don't want to get on Hisoka's bad side."

But Killua was beyond listening to the older man, his reason and rationality swept away by the new discovery. "So my brother is not only going into the murkiest, seediest place in all Anime City, but he's also going in there to meet the most despicable man."

To Hanzo's surprise, there was not a note of horror in Killua's voice but the dawn of wonder and awe on his young countenance, not to mention abhorrent amounts of respect. Killua continued:

"He looks as frail as a woman, has a voice softer and sweeter than my household maids, and he's going into Northside to conduct transactions with dangerous lunatics! Hanzo, I have the most _awesome_ brother in all Anime City."

Hanzo shuddered and squinted, then furiously rubbed his eyes hoping that he was seeing wrong. "You're….not upset or afraid?"

"Why the hell should I be?"

"_Because your brother is an unreadable man!"_

Killua viciously grinned, fully revealing the wickedness in his character. "All the better. Dad says that the surest way to survive in this world is if people cannot read you to anticipate your moves. Can you read my dad?"

"The Director? I dare not!"

The grin broadened and a giggle escaped. "Exactly. Bro will therefore make a very successful businessman, make Hunter Works ten times better than it is, and I wish him all the luck in the world."

Hanzo now massaged the sides of his aching temples, and he held up his other free hand in a sign of surrender. "Hold on, hold on. Aren't you afraid that Illumi could be deceiving you too?"

It never ceased to amaze the ninja the clarity and confidence in Killua's ringing laughter. The young child threw back his head and released his mirth and amusement in ragged cackles which made the older man feel embarrassed. He knitted his brows and pulled the director's son into a less conspicuous corner of the building, near some overgrown hedges, and peered straight into his face.

"Why should he?" Killua managed to say through trembling lips, in between his hoots of merriment, "I mean, what does he have to gain by being nice to me? He doesn't care for acting as in he has no long-term career planned in the industry. He's obsessed with his dolls and his clothes. He doesn't seem to need to rely on the Zoldick finances so much as he needs the publicity and acceptance within the social circles. I don't belong to the adult circles, so I have absolutely nothing that he wants."

"And his contact with Valerie? Does that not frighten you?"

The mentioning of her name immediately prompted Killua to correct Hanzo by muttering "_Lady_ Valerie. What about big bro's business with her?"

"It's not good business," the ninja replied bluntly, for once, "_she_ is no good business. Stay away from her and never let anyone ever see you speaking to her if you can."

"Why, I sat down with her only on the weekend."

Hanzo studied him with grave concern. "Yes, I know. News by my network travels faster than fire on a dry grass plain. As a friendly co-actor to another, I'm not going to tell you want to do, only suggest that you don't ever let it happen again. Valerie has just been implicated in Iori's downfall."

"_Lady_ Valerie," Killua corrected again, and his irritation marred his adorable frown. "I swear you grown ups are becoming more and more terrified of your own shadows these days. I guess if you couldn't attack feminists and strong women, your days would be very boring."

"Attack feminists? What on earth are you talking about?"

Killua presented Hanzo with his most nonchalant air. "This is what it's all about, isn't it? Who better to pick on than a woman standing up against all you men? You guys probably see it as a sport."

Hanzo was ghostly pale in outrage. "I beg your pardon?"

"It's the same situation with my bro," the child continued, indifferent to the older man's anger. "He was different; he didn't fit into the mould; he had long hair. So you guys all picked on him for a month or so, and then when he didn't retaliate, you guys lost interest in him, well, except for Menchi and her sister, but she's strange, so now you busy yourselves by picking on someone new."

"No Killua, I'm serious. Nothing around Valerie is any good – her husband fully controls Salar like a puppet, as in Kaéry's uncle who is five times smarter than the Prince himself. Doesn't it frighten you someone could control, no, _dominate,_ a person like that so totally?"

"It's really not my business. Salar is Kay's uncle, not my relative, so whether he's being whipped like a slave is the least of my concerns. Take some advice from me, Hanzo: the world is such a better place when you don't indulge in stupid gossip."

There was a short moment of silence where Hanzo groped for the right words a twelve year old with an adult's intelligence but a child's mind would understand. He looked at Killua gravely and sighed. "Your father didn't make it to where he is today by ignoring gossip. Information is invaluable, knowledge is priceless. I stand here now, as you friend, and I am going to give you the best advice in your life because I like you. If that means offending the President of Hunter Works, I'm still going to tell you."

"Geezus Hanzo, are these your famous last words? This serious gig doesn't suit you."

Killua's detracting comments were ignored as if they had never been uttered. Hanzo looked twenty years older when his brows were flat and lowered and his lips a sombre, humourless line.

"This is not about being bored and collective bullying. This isn't about chopping the tall poppies and the green eyes of jealousy. This is about your brother, who no one really knows, developing business connections and other unspoken collateral with a woman everyone would like to see dead. Your brilliant actor of a brother, who changes masks with the fluidity and perfection of a cyborg, is willing to degrade himself to sit on the same table with someone who has the power to push the almighty Salar around like a rag doll.

I love you kid. You may be a pesk and the unofficial prince of Brats, the purveyor of troubles, the kid with a forked tongue, but I love you like I love all the other actors and I would never want to see you hurt. Learn to be afraid, learn to ask questions, learn not to believe that what you see is what you get. You have a brother who looks like a woman, can cry like a girl but is able to deliver threats that will make hardened criminals wet their pants and run to mommy. I don't want anything to happen to you."

Usually, Killua's teflon-coated confidence could repulse anything that he didn't want to hear. Damn Hanzo this time. Damn him and his pesky serious tone and sincerity. Shaken and unwilling to admit it, he blinked hard several times and chewed on his bottom lip.

"I've heard," Hanzo continued in even lower voice that Killua could have been justified in thinking that it was his delirious imagination, "that everyone is mobilizing. Something happened and everyone is studying their own shadows to make sure it's really their own. I knew Salar's return with Vallanor's badge on his lapel was going to be an ill omen. Think about it, Killua. Salar gives a flat to Illumi ostensibly because of a soft-toy. Valerie is rumoured to have instigated Iori Yagami's demise. Valerie's husband has Salar at his beck and call. Illumi is seen with Valerie. Illumi is also seen in Northside. Use that brilliant mind of yours, Killua. Is this _really_ coincidence?"

Killua scratched his chin and found his eyes trying to catch hold of the shadows lingering at the edge of his vision. He switched to sucking on his upper lip as he squeezed his eyes shut and urged his brain to go into overdrive. "You are suggesting that Illumi is a part of Vallanor?"

"You're the one closest to him. I hope you'll be able to find out."

Hanzo abruptly left him and disappeared around the corner of the building. Astonished at first, Killua understood as the bulk of the actors steadily ambled out into the open in a rumble of murmurs and general chit chat.

Out of reflex, a smile was chiseled onto his face and he jogged to join up with Gon. When he reached the younger boy, he took his hand and dragged him from the crowd. Gon sought to keep up with him using clumsy footwork, almost tripping over and knocking Killua to the ground, but Killua's urgency gave him enough momentum to fight out of the fall and into a stumble.

"Killua! What's the rush!"

"Shut up!" Killua grated, his hand around Gon's remorselessly tightening down, "I'm thinking."

"Well do you need to rip my arm off to think?"

Out of the public's earshot, their backs pressed close to the wall of a desolate studio of Hunter Works, both boys waited till their lungs had stopped aching before Killua let go of Gon, or rather, Gon reclaimed his hand by yanking it back.

He nursed his wrist, grimacing at the pinkish red lines, then glared at his friend. "Will you tell me what's going on?"

"What did you think of the shoot today?"

The glare vanished. "I thought it was great. I didn't know Illumi could hold up under the pressure. And – "

"And?" Killua eagerly pressed, gripping Gon's shoulders, pinning the younger boy against the wall in what would otherwise be a highly suggestive move.

"And Hisoka is about to declare his love for Machi!"

"_The fuck?"_

Gon spun Killua around until he was facing the direction of the damning scenario. Both simultaneously gasped and felt their jaws dislocating.

Killua reacted first and hauled Gon back into the shadow of the building, clapping a hand over the latter's mouth at the same time to prevent the wheezing noises of hyperventilation from reaching Hisoka's sensitive ears. Naturally, Gon fought against the restraints, and when freed from the clutches of his friend, was forced down on his hands and knees from the pressure Killua exerted on his back, both straining to catch those elusive words.

Hisoka was positioned twenty paces away from Machi. They appraised each other's resolve with their steady and cool looks. A breeze momentarily lifted Machi's bushy hair, which then settled down, flayed about her shoulders and bobbed in anticipation. An annoyed flicker with her finger broke the standoff and she breathed out visibly, then crossed her arms.

She was expecting an answer.

Hisoka's aghast expression tried to convey that his answer was bleeding obvious.

Yet Machi showed no signs of budging. Hisoka had to either spit it out, or she'd stare him down onto his knees with her piercing golden glare like she'd done so many times in the past to ward off unwanted attraction from other men.

It was a chilling glare.

Hisoka's defeat was signalled by the slump in his shoulders and the exasperated whine. "It's classical music!" he protested, as if that simple comment was supposed to justify everything.

Uncompromising, Machi's eyebrow archly lifted and she sniffed. "And?"

Hisoka rolled his eyes and clasped his hands together in pleading. "It's classical music. It's boring. It's boring. It's boring. What else needs to be said?"

"I am not going alone."

The whining increased in volume and ascended in pitch. "Why don't you go with Legato?"

"He said it was boring, boring, boring."

"So why me?"

"That's for you to gnaw on in your spare time. I am not going to the concerts alone. You're coming with me and that's that. Make sure you're free on Friday night two weeks from now. I'll come and – "

Machi was cut off by the suspicious sounds of scuffling and heavy breathing. Hisoka leapt from his stationary position, like a cheetah who had caught a whiff of his prey, towards the direction of the noise. Machi followed, and both adults discovered two children wrestling and grunting. Evidently, they were vying for the best spot to spy on them and fell into infighting, only to give themselves away.

Hisoka pulled the fighting boys apart by the back of their collars and dangled them up in the air, a particularly nasty grin on his face.

"Ok, how much did you hear, and how much of a beating will it take to get it out of your head?"

Threaten the Director's precious son, co-star of Hunter x Hunter? Had Hisoka finally snapped, or was the idea of people finding out that he was going to attend a series of classical concerts so humiliating that he was willing to put his career on the line?

Machi raised both eyebrows and quietly wondered whether her brother's scheme was such a brilliant plan after all. At the moment, it stood a greater chance of pushing Hisoka over the edge rather than into her arms.

"Knock it off," Killua scoffed, "you always think the world centers around you, shallow and self-obsessed idiot."

Gon's face turned a curious shade of green, which neither resembled lime green or olive green, and he redoubled his efforts in the struggles, coughing at irregular intervals.

"Then why were you two twisting and writhing on the ground? Practicing a scene for some illegal child pornography?"

"Keep your mind out of the gutters. We were fighting because Gon said some things I didn't like."

"I did?"

"He did?" Hisoka's unwavering stare showed that he wasn't convinced.

"Yeah. He called Illumi a freak and said he wasn't acting during the shoot."

Mentioning 'Illumi' had a dispelling effect – Hisoka's anxieties about being overheard were dispelled, Gon's strugglings stilled and Machi stopped thinking about the concerts. Killua gave himself magnanimous praise and continued to put Hanzo's words in Gon's mouth.

"He said that I should be afraid of Illumi and that there was bad gossip around him again. Gon says that Illumi has been doing a lot of illegal things."

Hisoka dropped the boys back onto the ground and stared at them hard. Not unlike Machi's glare, it had the withering effect and the boys felt stripped of their clothes around him. Involuntarily, Killua let slip more information than he intended.

Hisoka and intense seriousness was enough to jolt the sensibilities out of you.

Killua sighed and kicked the dirt on the ground, letting his dejection fly like the dust. "So I thought we should go to someone smart to help us dig some dirt. Then we can all set our little suspicious minds to rest about my brother."

Hisoka did his best to keep his voice neutral, but a quiver was detectable as was the raw harshness grating at the back of his throat. He looked every inch like the psychotic and unpredictable magician who slit people's throats and felt his face washed with their blood without a flinch. His was a face that you would look upon and make for the next horizon and the one beyond.

"And who were you going to see?"

Killua gulped. A veil, one that erased all colour from his vision, was pulled across his eyes as he recognized the grave he had dug for himself. The magician stood before him, resolute, determined to be involved in the matter. This was the man who had made headlines with Illumi on his brother's first days in town. This was the same man who had provoked the ungodly monster that took five men to restrain. And this was the man now taking stock of his options, the devious chess player designing his move and urging everyone to dance to his tune.

_  
  
Illumi has connections with Lady Valerie. _

Valeria has been implicated in Iori's downfall.

Iori Yagami is Hisoka's baby cousin.

Hisoka loves his baby cousin.

God help those who ruined Iori.

"The Prince."

* * *

Lola admitted that the visitors were an odd collection. Though Kaéry had as many adult friends as children from Saturday School, an unannounced visit in what was a quietly isolated week bought suspicion and welcome relief. 

She tried to give her most friendly smile that didn't broadcast some ulterior motive. Still, Lola saw the children tremble. She patted their shoulders and steered them towards the living room. A brief nod was directed at Hisoka, and for Machi, the barely perceptible lift of the upper lip and a contemptuous drawl of "how nice to see you here, my dear." Apparently, the ill that Lola bore for Leona and her recent confessions had broadened to encompass the Bluesummers family members in general. In other circumstances, Machi could maintain her cool and deliver an equally pointed reply, but this was true Northsider. You lived longer if you kept your mouth shut and suffer the temporary humiliation.

The leather couch in the living room was cold. When Lola left the room to fetch the tea, Gon and Killua openly shivered at the chilled from the underside of their naked thighs as it contacted with the leather whilst Machi carefully kept her hands folded in her lap. Hisoka studied the unnaturally still surroundings with a puzzled glance and noted the top of the coffee table was coated in a thin layer of dust.

He accepted his cup and saucer from Lola, and tried to ask, being as unobtrusive as he could, "Is everything ok?"

The cup clattered in her hands but was deftly caught before its contents spilled onto the carpet and left an unremovable stain. She stuck out her tongue, fanning her hands furiously and threw Hisoka an apologetic look.

"Hot," she muttered, ripping tissue after tissue from the tissue box and mopped up the spilled liquid on the coffee table. "But it's funny you ask. What gave it away?"

"I never imagined a house where the Prince lived would ever be so quiet," Gon offered, recrossing his legs for the fifth time.

Lola blinked, secretly astounded by the accuracy and clarity of such a simple statement. She leaned back into the comfort of the pliant cushions and sighed.

"Saturday. Come Saturday, sanity will return and I can think clearly again."

"What's bothering you?" Killua asked, scratching his cheek. He saw Hisoka's eyes widen and Killua mentally slapped himself – bad question.

Lola ran her hand through her long black hair and snorted. "I'm having especially vivid dreams about chopping Valgarv into iddy biddy bits with a cleaver that has a dull edge. I get feelings akin to ecstasy when I fantasize about bitch slapping Filia for six hours straight. Then, to cool down, I move onto bashing Xelloss' rubber face into a brick wall for another six hours. Finally, I'd love to cause some general bloody mayhem and destruction in Northside, namely weeding some filth that has found root and is giving my brother a bad name. Don't tell Karasu. He doesn't need to know. I can still control myself."

They all regarded her with varying degrees of disbelief and had nothing to add.

The pupils of her eyes had shrunk down to the size of a pin point, and her grimly set jaw gave her a fearsome expression that she would eat you if you so much as breathed a little louder. Whatever she was picturing in her mind would easily score an x rating and involve three times as much blood and gore than a B grade 'House of the Dead' movie.

Silence suffocated all initiative to further dialogue as everyone feared that it would only induce more graphic and disturbing ravings from a woman who no one ever thought was truly stable.

"Kay's been a bit bored these past few days," Lola said after taking a large gulp of tea, ignoring the scalding sensations this time. "Xelan's not been allowed to come over. Usually, they'd be wreaking some chaos on the stock exchange at this time of day, or giggling about their conspiracies and games.

"So thank you for coming over to see him; company will keep his spirits up, until Saturday at least. I swear to gawd, if I hear him or see him cry, I am going to have to set fire to some houses."

The cup and saucer was replaced on the table with a forceful crash wherein hairline cracks appeared on the fine porcelain. Lola, oblivious, and most likely apathetic, to the damage caused, carelessly motioned for all to follow her up the stairs of the mansion and to Kaéry's room.

She rapped her knuckles on the door three times in staccato precision, regarding the painted white door as an obstinate bouncer who had to be negotiated with before you could pass into the splendours of the beyond. Apart from the whispers of air leaking from the four actors' nostrils, there was no response.

Lola knocked a little louder this time, but before the third strike could descend, the door opened a fraction and Kaéry's blue eyes peered at her, more innocent and adorable than a newborn kitten.

His mother forced the door wide open, revealing the Prince garbed in his wrinkled pyjamas and disheveled hair that had not come into contact with a comb for at least three days. He whinnied at his mother's intrusion and clung to her leg in a last ditch attempt to prevent her from going further into his room. Lola sighed and picked him up, planting a big kiss on his cheek.

"Your friends have come over to see you."

"Xe?" Kay peered past his mother's shoulder at the quartet of people who stood on the spot and fidgeted with their hands.

"You have friends other than Xe, you know. Go on, get dressed, brush your hair and entertain them."

"It's no big deal," Killua shakily forced out a laugh, "we just want to talk to Kay, that's all. Grooming is not a prerequisite."

"Aww Killua, you've got such a cute sense of humour," Lola uncharacteristically cooed, imitating other mothers who doted on Killua and would bend over and pinch his cheek. It bruised on this occasion, although he was sure it wasn't deliberate, and it occurred to him that Kaéry's mum was trying to crack a joke at her own expense. All right. He heard Hisoka's laugh and Lola brightened up, then stole a glance at her son to see if it had similar effects. Kay managed to pull his lips sideways, showning no teeth though, but desisted from slamming his door shut to the visitors. "Should I order some pizza from Luigi or anything?"

Gon nodded in enthusiasm. "We haven't had lunch."

Kaéry pushed his mother to the stairs and wiggled his fingers in good bye to urge his mother to return his privacy. Lola ruffled his messy hair once more before disappearing to the kitchens to make the call. Killua made himself count slowly to ten in his head before he spoke, to be sure that Kay's mother was out of hearing range.

"I need your help."

"I thought so," Kaéry muttered, rubbing his eyes, then stepped aside and allowed them to enter his room.

It was a room crammed from roof to floor with state of the art technology and shelves stacked with thick books that could make quite devastating missiles if dropped from great heights. What could be seen of the walls was a conventional dark grey over plaster to match the navy blue carpet. The bed sheets on his bed were twisted and tangled, the wall above his bed pockmarked with pinpricks.

"Who were you practicing your darts on?"

Kay bared his fangs. "Who do you think? I've run out of his pictures. I've had to unplug my internet connection just so I could prevent myself from contracting a hit man to take him out. Just he wait. When my plans kick in, it's going to have a snowball effect and he'll either die, be crushed, ruined or torn apart."

Hisoka blanched. The thermometer suddenly dipped by a few degrees and there was a chilly wind constantly teasing out goosebumps at the back of his neck. The Prince regarded Hisoka's pale complexion with a quizzical tilt of the head, no different to the adorable Labrador puppies on the television commercials, but merely shrugged, clearly disinterested to chase the matter further.

They all had to sit on the ground given the lack of chairs in the room, apart from Kaéry's personal recliner that Kay flung himself into at the first opportunity. Falling into the cross legged position, the Hunter actors tried to ignore the bizarre and alien objects scattered across the floor and the threat of the sharp, pointy objects dangling on fishing line from the ceiling.

Hisoka gave Killua a prod, urging him to brief the genius prodigy on their problems and Killua gave him a solid punch on the upper arm, hissing at him to shut up and not to push him until he was ready.

Killua cleared his throat and lowered his gaze to his twiddling fingers. Kaéry's violet contact lenses was not what gave his unwavering stare the uncomfortable edge; he was just a naturally intimidating son of a bitch. "I remember that you helped Karuto track down Illumi a few weeks ago when he went missing."

"Didn't he say that he was overseas?" Kaéry drawled. His feet pushed hard against the ground and his recliner sprung back with a snap, jolting the child onto his back. Gon followed Kaéry's line of sight and noted a liquid flatron screen plastered to the ceiling, displaying a blending mottle of colours mutating without end. If you stared at it for ten seconds, you'd realize it was the camera zooming into the colours, uncovering one layer after another and another for infinite. The fascination was well worth the eyesore.

"Karuto called you useless, but she's new around here, so she doesn't know that you never get anything wrong. If Illumi had been overseas, you could have hacked into Customs departure records within two hours flat, but that never happened."

A small lift of a corner of his pinkish lips was all that was needed for Kaéry to transform into his usual diabolical self. It was a horrifying thing to witness.

"What are you trying to say?"

Killua steeled himself and looked up. "You don't believe he ever left Anime City. And because he lied about it, you've been prodding Illumi's background for holes."

The Prince laughed a dry and humourless laugh. He tucked both hands behind the back of his head and his eyes never left the swirling chaos of flashing colours. "I started prodding before he lied."

"The incentive?"

Kaéry's smile broadened but at the same time, his teeth ground down hard to sustain the grin. His clawed fingers dug into the leather of the recliner and flexed, unsure whether they wanted to rip the stuffing out or not. Then, he breathed in deeply, everyone hearing the air sucked into his lungs, and relaxed.

"He made me afraid. He made my teeth chatter. He made me feel so dreadfully cold. I wasn't going to let someone like that get away."

"What'd he do to you?" Machi bluntly questioned. She crossed her arms and leveled her iciest stare at the child whose eyes were still glued to the kaleidoscope of pictures flashing overhead, bracing in advance for Kaéry's retaliation.

The child giggled.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I think I was more terrified of what he stands for and who he is rather than what he did."

Hisoka let his face sink into one of his more menacing scowls. "He's a soft spoken doll-maker. What's there to hate?"

"Is he _just _a doll-maker? Is he _just _another fashion designer in our image-obsessed city? Is he _just_ a rookie actor saying his lines because mother told him to do so? A human being can be many things, Hisoka, but there is always a part of him that is constant and unchanging. Note the operative differences between 'be' as opposed to 'is'. You are what you are, but you can be whoever you choose to be by the simple process of changing masks. However, when these two distinct states of mind begin to blur, you have a man of no definition, a natural-born shapeshifter able to instantly take the form of any person he desires, adopt any personality he needs, and of course, not a drop of honesty or sincerity in his actions or words."

"Are you calling Mr Illumi a liar?" Gon quietly asked. The lecture Wing delivered back at TGI that day when Milluki crashed in on their lunch resurfaced to slip ice-cubes down the front of his shirt. He shuddered and tried hard to recall what his nen master had said.

It was acceptable to lie when you're trying to get a feel for a new crowd of people as you can never be certain whether they'd appreciate you imposing your personality in their face. But everyone said that Illumi had fooled Hisoka and consequently made a fool of him too. He wasn't being polite and generally 'nice' to fit in – he had tricked someone.

"But what for?" Gon found himself echoing his trail of thoughts aloud. Kaéry gave a resounding clap and leapt upright on his chair, his blue eyes sparkling with vitality.

"Exactly! As my uncle would say – _the why!_ If you answer 'the why', you'll get your answers for 'the how'."

Killua grunted to hide his chuckle. "The why and the how? Is this some secret language you share with your uncle?"

"The why," Kaéry explained, "asks about a myriad of things connected to reason and motive. The how is simply discovering the mechanism which executed the intent. Usually, evidence allows a person to solve the 'how' before they uncover the intent. In some cases, the intent may not even be relevant, as you might only be concerned with the modus. However, in Illumi Zoldick's case, since answering 'the how' based on circumstantial evidence leads to a result that makes it difficult for the ordinary person to digest, you've got to naturally pair it off with the why."

"I'm getting a headache trying to keep up, but let me get this straight. You know how Illumi made you scared, but the things he did which scared you were nonsensical, therefore you had to satisfy yourself by trying to find out why Illumi does what he does that is so frightening."

The Prince laughed and was on his feet, stretching. "Dad says Legato has cotton wool stuffed between his ears, so it seems the smattering of intelligence went to the female side of the Bluesummers line. That doesn't explain the questionable choices your sister made in following the lunatics to Northside however, but heck, you've got brains. Rejoice."

Killua mimicked Kaéry and was on his feet too. He glanced over Kaéry's shoulder as the latter rummaged through the lever arch folders and display books on his desk before releasing a satisfied 'ah' at a particularly thick volume and dumped it in Killua's outstretched arms.

"The findings of my research are all in here and I probably haven't even cracked the shell to get to the centre of the mysteries yet. Nevertheless, what I did manage to find without actually going to Mirriston to do some interviews has been…enlightening."

"Mirriston?"

"That's where Kikyou Zoldick and her two sons used to live. She moved when she was pregnant with Karuto, and incidentally, the year that she moved, her husband had died. Now, do you want to go through all that, or shall I summarize and direct you to the most relevant newspaper clippings?"

All four sighed. "Please, do us the honour. We know you love the sound of your voice."

Kay laughed again and took to sitting on the floor with the rest of them, deftly plucking out the desired documents that had earlier been flagged by colourful strips of plastic adhesive. His eyes glittered with malicious intelligence as he scanned through the highlighter markings. He began with a soft murmur, forcing his visitors to pay greater attention to his voice and his story about the small community and its hidden and horrifying sordid tales where Illumi Zoldick grew up.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

To the ignorant tourist, Mirriston was an idillic town straight out of the black and white shows from the fifties. Houses all shared the same low, impeccably white picket fence with hedge of neatly clipped daisies swaying behind. A gravel path led to the glossy oaken front door, which was never locked, for it was a safe community and no one had been burgled for the past twenty years. Given the community's strong adherence to their religious faith, every family had a mother and father and bundle of children hosing each other with jets of water in the heat of the hot summers. The streets were immaculate, the people hung affectionate smiles and decency and good manners was the social norm.

Mirriston had one school, religiously affiliated, and it catered for students from kindergarten to their final years of high school. Given the relatively small population, the school had around one thousand students who wore their uniforms spotless and black shoes polished till it attained the reflective qualities of a mirror. The credit for such discipline went to the principal, a tall man with thick curly brown hair, perfect white teeth, dimples on either cheeks and a smile to die for. Coupled with the spiritual aura of a priest, parents and children alike flocked to his congregations on Sundays and never found the ire to question his words.

He died of a heart attack in his own home, aged thirty nine. His eldest son was the one who rang for the ambulance, but by the time the paramedics arrived, there was nothing they could do.

Despite the principal's popularity within the community, his funeral was a quiet affair. His widowed wife and children had already left Mirriston after a gas leak from one of the heaters in the upper storey of the building ignited into a gigantic fireball that engulfed the building and didn't even leave charred matchstick-like foundations standing.

Fortunately, there was no one in the building at that time.

And so concludes a small chapter in the town's placid history, the only event to cause an upheaval in the townsfolk's lives other than the suicide of an eight year old girl called Melissa two years earlier.

Later police records, which were hastily covered up, raised a strong possibility that the dead priest had never touched his wife.

Yet she bore him two sons and was pregnant when he passed away.

So was there something insidious festering behind the death of a fit, and you couldn't say old, man who had always preached, and himself followed, a healthy lifestyle to his parishioners?

The local police never pursued the investigation, and according to internal and confidential documents, never had any interest in giving voice to the dead man. After all, against religious tradition, the priest's eldest son had applied to the morgue to have his father cremated, hence there was no body left to conduct a coroner's inquest into the death.

And what would you think if I told you that the chief investigator who ordered all investigations to be abandoned was new to Mirriston to replace the former chief investigator who was charged, and later convicted, for a number of corruption charges?

Kaéry had enough of the edge pieces of the puzzle to construct the general framework. Though he lacked the minute details, most of which he was unlikely to ever lay his hands on, the why and the how could still be answered to the degree that the imagination was sufficient to finish the computations.

"All I have is a hypothesis," the Prince said. "So, where do you want me to start?"

* * *

**  
Author's Notes  
**It's been an astonishingly long delay! Due to my eagerness to finish Book I of Definition, I regrettably had this fanfic suspended for eight months! I wonder how many people are still following this fic. In fact, I wonder how many people have forgotten half the stuff that's happened in this fanfic.  
  
I do offer my sincerest apologies for the wait. And this chapter isn't exactly pumping with action either! Well, the buildup will probably occur in the next chapter, when Kay explains the cryptic narrative at the end here (oh my god, is this Yomi's attempt at a _cliffhanger?_), and the chapter after that will probably be the first real high point of the fanfic. Fortunately, I had notes concerning the direction of the plot written down (and we're talking eight months ago), so whilst I have forgotten some scenes, they probably weren't important anyway and I still have my skeletal framework. The bad news is that even eight months ago, I didn't envisage what would happen past Chapter 25. There were some tentative suggestions, leading to a lot of rejections and "that's just not going to work!" sort of thing. Basically, I'm encountering slight difficulties with handling Vallanor and the ultimate clash with Elysian - I can't decide whether I want a big bang or defuse the bomb and go out on a whimper and focus more on the relationships between the Hunter characters as opposed to a grand, operatic struggle between two groups of OCs/non-Hunter characters. If you have any opinions or comments on this matter, feel free to raise them in the review. I might not adopt your suggestion, but at least suggestions get my own brain incentive to spin.  
  
If you've been waiting for eight months for this chapter, thank you so very much for sticking by this fic. I hope to update this on par with Book II of Definition. It's a bit wierd writing a fic where the characters don't use nen when I've been obsessing over Kayle's nen for the past month since Book I finished, but thank god I've got 20some chapters to read to help me get back into the setting again.  
  
Please review and let me know you're still reading. And if you have anything to say about my dilenma, please speak up.  
  



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